In A Little Town Called Smallville - The Chlollie Rewrites Series
by energis121
Summary: Series of Chlolliefied, episode-based one-shots, ranging from seasons two to six for now (the complete series will include season seven rewrites as well). Rated T overall. This is the re-posted version, where all the installments can be found in one place. Latest installment: #14 - 'In the Shadows of the Past', set during 6x05.
1. In A Little Town Called Smallville

_**EDIT: So, I finally got around to organizing this series properly. I'll be re-posting all the installments in this one place, so it will be much easier to read them through. It will also be less messy overall. Yes, I have finally seen sense; this series kind of turned out to be much longer than I'd thought, so it's become all over the place. I am hereby remedying that. **_

_**Anyway, all the original author's notes and such will be kept as they were, so not much will change really, other than it will be a proper series rather a uncoordinated bunch of one-shots now.**_

_**That all said, the next (thirteenth) installment IS in the works - has been for like nine months, but that's not the point - and I promise you that this series will not be abandoned. In the meantime, I hope you can enjoy the previous installments and that you find them easier to access now.**_

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_A/N: So, I've been doing what every devoted Smallville fan is bound to do at one point in time and that is to re-watch the entire show from the start. And so, I just watched 'Heat' again a few hours ago and this little idea popped into my head. And it wouldn't leave me be so I had to write it down._

_Also, there are no romantic entanglements and/or undertones in this one, since I feel like Chloe was too young at the time to be engaging in anything other than some witty banter with Oliver. She may have already done the deed with Jimmy then but still, it just didn't feel right to write her getting down and dirty with Ollie at the tender age of sixteen._

_That said, I hope you enjoy this little, umm...product of the incessant voices in my head. Wait, that didn't sound right..._

* * *

_Summary: Set during 2x02 'Heat'. Oliver attends Lex's wedding to Desiree out of curiosity and ends up meeting a very interesting - and extremely snarky - little blonde._

* * *

**In A Little Town Called Smallville**

Oliver had some difficulty in keeping a straight face when the newly-formed happy couple started cutting their first piece of cake. Lex Luthor getting married…it was a sight to behold for sure. Oliver usually avoided all and any LuthorCorp-related events he was invited to but when he had gotten the invitation to this particular one, he'd almost immediately flown to this piece of cornland its residents liked to call Smallville.

_How fitting_, he mused internally before refocusing his attention on the Mr. and Mrs. He had to hand it to his bald rival from back in the old days…she _was _hot.

It was all rather amusing to Oliver. Seeing Lex 'the Ice Man' Luthor with a hopelessly sappy expression on his face was the single most priceless thing the Star City billionaire had ever experienced.

"Shrimp pâté, miss?" he heard one of the waiters, assigned to keep the rich and famous attendees well fed, ask someone somewhere on his right. He resisted the urge to groan out loud; he really hated these fancily named, supposedly delicious and yet microscopically tiny hors d'oeuvres that were served on such occasions. But the high-class chicks really seemed to dig that sort of thing.

Which was exactly why the girl's response shocked him.

"Umm," he heard her begin skeptically, "you wouldn't happen to have anything that looks a little more like actual food and a little less like something that's just made its way through a small mammal's digestive system, would you?"

Oliver turned in the direction of the girl's voice, smirking at the waiter's dumbfounded expression.

"I'm…really not sure, miss," he finally replied somewhat uncertainly, obviously having little to no clue as to what he was actually serving to the guests.

She rolled her eyes. "Typical," she muttered, sighing as if she were subjected to the most painful of tortures.

"So you…don't want a shrimp pâté?" the waiter tried again after a few seconds and Oliver felt like this was his opportunity to intervene, make some interesting conversation and possibly cause some havoc.

"I think that much is clear," he said smoothly as he came to stand next to the girl. She glanced sideways in surprise, her eyebrows drawn together in a very adorable fashion. He gave her a small smile before moving his focus to the waiter before him. "Listen…Jeff," he said as he read the boy's nametag, "why don't you make a quick trip to the kitchen and have the chef prepare something edible for the lady? Say a sandwich, maybe?"

The waiter stuttered for a moment before recollecting himself and uttering a stiff 'Of course, sir' and turning on his heel to walk away.

"Well, that was certainly very chivalrous of you," the girl spoke when he was out of earshot as she angled her body towards Oliver.

The latter shrugged casually. "I was raised to be a gentleman," he replied lightly, taking a moment to observe the girl.

She couldn't have been more than sixteen – or seventeen _tops_ – and she was most definitely not the type he usually saw at these parties. Her blonde hair was short and coiffed in some sort of edgy, modern hairdo while her dress was an absolute refreshment compared to the endless défilé of monochromatic designer dresses he was used to.

She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at him, appearing to be studying him meticulously. "So, white knight syndrome then…" she mused, seeming to be building some kind of psychological profile of him. "Hmm…so, either you are actually one the last remaining specimens of the noble and cavalier ones or you're a psychopath who wants to lure me into a dark corner and murder me in a very torturous manner."

"Uh…"

"Any ties to Smallville? Exposure to little green rocks? History of mental illnesses in the family? All of the above?"

"Not to my knowledge, no," he replied lightly, the hints of a smile starting to form on his lips.

She squinted at him for a little while more before her features relaxed and her mouth curved into a grin. "In that case, I'm Chloe," she introduced herself, extending her hand which he shook while mirroring her grin.

"Oliver," he said as he released her hand. "Chloe is a pretty name," he then stated matter-of-factly, nodding his head in approval.

"Thanks. And uh…you know, I wish I could return the sentiment but Oliver is really not the name I'd give to my firstborn. Or to any of my hypothetical children, really…unless I wanted to scar them for life, of course."

His jaw dropped for a second before he restored his previous air of nonchalance. "It's a family name," he explained. "Wouldn't have been my first choice either."

"Oh, poor you," she cooed in mock-sympathy. "That had to have been hard, growing up with a name like that."

"It wasn't easy," he agreed in a long-suffering tone, shaking his head desolately for emphasis.

She kept her look of pity firmly in place for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. He joined her and it took them quite some time to wind down. When they finally did, he was the first to speak. "Okay, I have to know…what _on Earth_ are you doing at an event like this one?" he asked, genuine curiosity coloring his voice. Truly, he couldn't possibly imagine what someone like her would be doing here.

She shrugged. "It's my friend's wedding. I couldn't just take a rain check."

"Oh, you're friends with the bride?"

"The groom, actually."

"You're friends with Lex Luthor?" he deadpanned, making her arch an eyebrow.

"Why is that so surprising?"

"Because Lex doesn't _have_ friends. Especially not normal ones."

"So…you're saying that _you_ are abnormal?"

"Funny, but no. See, I'm not friends with Lex. I'm actually his arch nemesis," he stated proudly, sounding unnecessarily pleased with the fact.

"And you are at his wedding because…"

"I just had to see it for myself. It was too good to pass up on. The worst part is, he actually looks like he's in love, the poor bastard," Oliver noted almost compassionately, glancing in the aforementioned bastard's direction to emphasize his point.

"It's the pheromones," she stated flatly, taking a sip of her non-alcoholic beverage.

He smirked and nodded his approval. "It's all in the animal magnetism," he agreed sagely.

"Some people have the chemistry, some people just don't."

"Well said, my friend," he said gravely, raising his own glass for a toast, "Well said."

She chuckled lightly at his silliness as they clinked glasses and drank their respective concoctions.

They fell into a comfortable yet animated conversation after that, discussing everything from teen pregnancy to what the best choice of wig for Lex would be and Oliver found that he was truly enjoying himself. Chloe was sassy, quick-witted and snarky and boy, did he enjoy every second of their verbal sparring. It was probably the single most interesting conversation he'd had in months…possibly even years. And it was one of those rare occasions when he actually engaged in a talk with a girl without an agenda (the agenda almost always being getting under the unsuspecting girl's skirt).

Jeff the waiter returned at one moment with her sandwich which she devoured like there was no tomorrow, explaining to Oliver between rather monstrous bites that she hadn't eaten anything since dinner the previous night because she had been too involved in writing an article for her high school paper to remember that she was hungry.

They both lost track of time after that but at some point, they were approached by a tall, dark-haired teen. "Hey Chlo, ready to go?" he asked, coming to stand at their side.

Chloe blinked at him, looking surprised to see him there before finding her voice again. "Uh…yeah, sure. We promised Lana we'd help her with the Talon," she said more to herself than her companions, almost as if she were only remembering it now. "Um, Clark, this is Oliver. Oliver, this is Clark, a friend of mine," she made the introductions and the two men shook hands politely.

"Well, I am needed to go scrub some soot off a ceiling," she announced to Oliver. "So I guess this is my _sayonara_."

Oliver raised his eyebrows at her words but knew better than to ask for an explanation. He really wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Alright then," he said lightly, "It's time for us to go our separate ways. It was good to meet you, Chloe," he told her with a sincere smile which she returned.

"You too," she replied as she started to walk away with Clark. "Bye, Oliver," she called over her shoulder, tossing him one last smile.

"Bye."

He watched her go with a wistful smile. He'd really like to see her again, if only just to debate on the dangers of genetically modified crops. He had a feeling she could make even _that_ topic of conversation interesting.

But he doubted they'd ever cross paths again because really, when was he ever going to return to the godforsaken, little town of Smallville?

One thing was for sure, though…this Chloe girl was definitely something else.


	2. In the Fields of Kansas

_A/N: So, my re-watch is in full swing and I'm back with another one-shot, this one fairly longer than the first one. As for where the inspiration for this one came from...just look at the quote below._

_Enjoy :)_

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_Summary: Based on a Chloe quote from 4x20 'Ageless' and set during 2x06 'Redux'. Some misplaced business papers lead Oliver to revisiting Smallville sooner than he would've thought possible._

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**In the Fields of Kansas**

_"Now, I found an arrowhead in Evan's field once…" – Chloe Sullivan in 'Ageless' (4x20)_

It was certainly an unusual kind of meeting. Oliver couldn't really decide which was weirder; the fact that he was sitting opposite a _blind _Lionel Luthor, or the fact that Luthor Sr. had apparently hired a _nice_ assistant for once. Oliver never really enjoyed doing business with the Luthors but it was sort of an occupational hazard, since LuthorCorp and Queen Industries - - along with Wayne Enterprises - were the biggest players on the American, and possibly even global, market. And this was exactly one of those occasions that made Oliver wish he'd never become the youngest CEO to run such a vast business empire; the one where he was forced to shake hands and smile with the devil himself.

Or with his middle-aged, surprisingly pleasant assistant in this case.

"If you agree with the terms, Mr. Queen, I will bring the documentation for you to sign," she spoke professionally but her voice seemed to carry some sort of a homey, warm vibe Oliver had believed to be lost in the corporate world.

"I am satisfied with the terms of our deal," he said, nodding along for emphasis.

"Perfect, I will bring you the paperwork in just a second," she replied with a smile before heading out of the proverbial lion's den, presumably to retrieve the documents he needed to sign.

Oliver felt the childish urge to tell her to stay and not leave him alone with the big bad blind wolf. He may have toughened up over the years – especially during his stay on that damned island – but Lionel Luthor still gave him the mother of all chills, even more so now that he was blind.

"It's always a pleasure doing business with you, Oliver," the 'boogeyman' – as Oliver used to call him when he was a kid – spoke in that trademark, unnerving voice of his. "Just like it was with your father."

"I wish I could say the feeling is mutual, Lionel," Oliver retorted in a light tone, "but you and I both know that if I had it my way, Queen Industries would never be in business with LuthorCorp."

The other man chuckled dryly, appearing to enjoy Oliver's antagonism. "We don't always get what we want, Oliver, especially not in the harsh world of business. I'm sure Robert has taught you that."

Oliver jaw flexed but his tone remained neutral. "Can't say that he has, Lionel. He died when I was ten; the only thing he got to teach me was how to ride a bike."

"Ah, yes, you were certainly too young then to be dragged into such things," Lionel spoke in a tone that somehow seemed to carry none of the compassion the words should imply.

Before Oliver got the chance to respond, his assistant reappeared, looking sheepish. "I am so sorry, Mr. Queen," she apologized as she came into his line vision, "but I think I've forgotten the paperwork back home. I was going over it last night and I must've left them on the table this morning."

"Accidents happen, Martha," Lionel spoke, not a trace of reproach in his voice. "I'm sure Oliver understands."

Oliver raised his eyebrows, thoroughly surprised by the older man's behavior. He'd once witnessed first-hand as he'd made a young man cry with his berating for not getting a job done satisfactorily - the job in question being to get the coffee served at the right temperature. He decided not to comment on his observations though, and smiled reassuringly.

"Of course," he said, bringing his gaze to the woman, whose name was apparently Martha. "No harm, no foul. I would appreciate if the paperwork was brought to me today, though. I'm flying back to Star City first thing tomorrow morning."

"I can have the documents here in three hours, Mr. Queen," Martha was quick to respond, apparently relieved that she wasn't going to endure some rich man's fit. "Well, a bit more if I get stuck in traffic on my way out of Metropolis."

"_Out_ of Metropolis?" Oliver echoed in confusion, making Martha nod.

"Yes, I live in Smallville," she explained with a small smile. "The commute is about an hour and half long in each direction."

Smallville…The name triggered something in Oliver's memory. He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember. _Smallville, Smallville...wait a minute…_

"I've been to Smallville," he told Martha as it finally clicked. "At Lex's wedding," he added and then smirked when he saw Lionel flinch. "You know, the one that lasted a _whole _day."

Martha seemed like she was about to smile but then thought the better of it. "We are just lucky Lex got an annulment before any serious damage could be done to the company," she said diplomatically, reciting what Oliver had already heard from the official press release. Apparently, Desiree had only been after Lex's money and fortune. What a shocker.

"Extremely lucky," Oliver agreed but couldn't quite keep the derisive smirk off his face as he glanced briefly at Lionel before returning his attention to Martha. "You know, it seems like an unnecessary waste of fuel to drive to Smallville and back just to hand me the papers. If you're okay with it and your boss is willing to give you the rest of the day off, I can come with you to sign the papers," he suggested, only partially interested in going green.

"How will you get back to Metropolis?"

He shrugged. "I'll catch a cab."

"But it's a very long commute, the fare will be - "

"I'm quite certain I'll be able to afford it," he replied lightly, making her chuckle.

"Of course," she said before turning to Lionel. "Is that okay with you?"

"But of course," he replied in that same tone he seemed to reserve for Martha and Martha alone. "You know, Oliver," he began again just as Oliver rose from his chair, ready to bolt out of that office as soon as possible, "I hear your old headmaster from Excelsior is Smallville High's newest recruit. Perhaps you could pay him a visit. I'm sure Mr. Reynolds would appreciate it greatly," he suggested sarcastically and Oliver did his best to hide his gulp. He remembered Mr. Reynolds well.

"I'll do that," he said made his way to the door, ignoring Martha's curious gaze. "Have a nice day, Lionel."

* * *

The ride to Smallville was done in relative silence, as he chatted with Martha – who he learned went by the last name of Kent – from time to time.

"You said you live on a farm?" he said somewhere around the millionth piece of cornfield they passed by.

"Yes," she replied pleasantly. "I help my husband Jonathan run it. We've been hitting a bit of a financial rut with it lately, which is why I took that job with Lionel."

Oliver nodded in understanding. "That certainly explains why someone as nice as you would be working so closely with Satan himself."

She smiled politely but didn't comment on her boss' character or personality. Instead, she changed the subject. "So, you've mentioned you've been here before…did you like our town?"

"Can't say I've seen much of it aside from the Luthor mansion."

"Well, it's a really small place. Not much goes on around here."

_You don't say_, Oliver thought sarcastically but didn't voice his musings out loud. He really didn't want to offend the nice lady.

"It's usually that way with small towns," he said instead.

"Smallville isn't exactly your usual small town," she commented cryptically but before Oliver could ask her to elaborate, she took a turn onto a small dirt road and pulled over at the entrance of a quiet little farm.

"We're here," she said as she unbuckled her seatbelt and exited the car. "Right this way, Mr. Queen."

"Would you please call me Oliver?" he asked as he followed her lead.

"Well, you have refused to call me Martha, so why should I return the favor?"

"That's different. I owe you that kind of respect, you're old enough to be my mother," he pointed out and then stopped when he realized what he'd just said. "And I meant that in the best possible way," he added quickly.

She smiled warmly. "I'm sure you did," she said as she unlocked the door and led him into what appeared to be the kitchen. "The paperwork is right here," she added as she moved to the counter, on top of which rested an entire pile of folders and papers.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "Tea, coffee, water?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Kent, really," he replied as he took out a pen to sign all the documents she'd laid out for him. Once the task was done, he handed her the papers and stood.

"So…how does one get a cab here?" he asked politely.

"Well, there is certainly no way you'll get one from the farm. I can drive you to the town's center. I'm sure you can find one there."

He nodded before a thought popped into his head. Since they were already going to the town…

"Actually, do you mind dropping me off at the high school? I really could take the opportunity to catch up with my old headmaster…"

* * *

Well, Smallville High was definitely different than the kind of school he was used to in his teen days. Then again, he did go to Excelsior Prep.

After exchanging a few words with what seemed like a very nice cheerleader with the intelligence level of a small-sized mosquito, he got the directions to the principal's office. Truth be told, he wasn't particularly looking forward to this reunion. He wasn't exactly on Mr. Reynolds' favorites list back in the day, especially after the Duncan Allenmayer incident.

He shivered at the mere memory of the poor guy. Everything that happened that fateful day was something Oliver would rather forget. The way Lex had beaten his only friend to a pulp only for said friend to be totaled by a speeding car minutes later…And if Oliver remembered correctly, Mr. Reynolds had left – or been forced to leave – his post as headmaster shortly after the incident. Lex was on a disciplinary hearing for having beaten Duncan and was facing expulsion one moment and next thing they knew, the principal was leaving, the school had a new library and Lex was allowed to stay. Oliver could only guess that it was all Lionel's work.

He arrived at the door and took a deep breath before knocking. He waited a few seconds before he heard a deep, authoritative 'come in' reach his ears. Swallowing, he turned the knob and entered the office.

He was greeted by the sight of Mr. Reynolds sitting proudly in his headmaster's chair and a dark-haired teenager in the visitor's one. When the latter turned around, Oliver realized he'd seen him before.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Oliver said politely, trying to force a smile on his face. He failed.

He saw Mr. Reynolds' eyebrows rise slightly in surprise but his look of borderline military authority was quickly restored.

"Oliver Queen," he said the name in that deep, grave voice of his. "What a surprise."

"Hey, I know you," the guy in the chair – who went by the name of Clark, if Oliver remembered it right – said cheerfully. "You were at Lex's wedding with - "

Clark stopped abruptly as he seemed to realize that maybe he shouldn't have spoken without permission or something. He chanced a somewhat hesitant look toward the principal, whose stoic expression hadn't faltered.

"You are free to go, Mr. Kent," Mr. Reynolds spoke, not once glancing in Clark's direction but keeping his eyes on Oliver instead.

Kent…wait, _Kent_?

Before Oliver could ponder on the fact that Clark was apparently related in one way or another to Lionel Luthor's PA, the dark-haired teen was already out of the office, looking very eager to flee the premises.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Oliver?" the headmaster asked, leaning back into his chair.

"Well, I was in town," Oliver replied as steadily as he could. "And I heard you were the principal here now so I figured I could drop by and say 'hello'."

"Is that so?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Oliver asked as he picked up on the clear note of skepticism in the other man's voice.

"Well, I don't exactly remember us ever being…how can I put this? _Cordial_, I think would be the appropriate choice of words."

Oliver nodded, pursing his lips. "I'm not the same guy I used to be, Mr. Reynolds."

"Oh, it's what you all say. Don't get me wrong, Oliver, I'm sure your stay on that island in the middle of the Pacific has taught you some much needed life lessons," the principal said evenly, making Oliver's trademark mask of carefree nonchalance slip.

"I get that we never really got along, but - "

"It was never question of the two of us getting along," Mr. Reynolds cut in. "It was all a question of you being a bully, Oliver and me needing to take the disciplinary measures such behavior mandated."

Once again, Oliver nodded, knowing he deserved that jab. Still, they weren't in Excelsior anymore and he wasn't about to let his old headmaster treat him like dirt.

"I may have been a bully, Mr. Reynolds and I sure as hell regret a lot of things I did back then," he said firmly. If the older man wanted to play it tough then by God, he would play along. "But I'm not that guy anymore. Sure, I still have my fair share of indiscretions but don't think for one second that you have any right to get morally superior on me."

The principal gave him a long, unreadable look in complete silence before retorting in a completely flat tone. "I think you can find your way out of my office. Have a pleasant day, Oliver," he added before returning to the files in front of him without sparing Oliver another glance. The latter did just that, drawing some sort of satisfaction from the way the door slammed shut behind him.

_Well, that went well_, he thought sarcastically, his previous goodish mood now long gone. What was that guy's problem, anyway? Sure, he may have been the number one source of problems back at Excelsior – with Lex running a close second – but it was just petty to hold this sort of grudge for that long. And he _had _changed since then; not that many people really noticed.

He made his way through the corridors, eager to get the hell out of this place and as far away from Smallville as possible. Until he passed by an open door and caught glimpse of a familiar blonde, that is.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes drifting from the inscription on the door that said 'the Torch' – whatever that was – to the teenager sitting behind a computer screen and squinting at it heavily.

"Knock knock," he said lightly as he tapped his finger against the painted wood.

"Who's there?" she replied automatically, not once lifting her eyes off her research.

"You can't possibly be partial to 'knock knock' jokes."

That caught her attention.

Her head whipped upwards in surprise, her eyes wide as she took note of his presence, narrowed as she seemed to be trying to find a place for him in her memories and finally twinkling as she recognized him.

"You'd be surprised," she said as she rose from her chair and sidestepped her desk before leaning her hip against it. "So, what brings you back to my neck of the woods, Oliver?"

"Oh you know, I got tired of all the bright city lights of California and decided I needed another trip to the Kansas epicenter of fun," he replied with a slight shrug.

She gave him a look. "You're stalking me, aren't you?"

He clicked his tongue. "Guilty."

"Well, I have often been proved to be a mad man's ultimate fantasy," she conceded.

He chuckled. "I'm really afraid to even _wonder _what your love life is like."

"Love life? What's that?" she tossed back derisively before pursing her lips. "Seriously though, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I got wind that my old headmaster is getting his kicks by scaring the daylights out of unsuspecting kids here now so I figured I could stop by and see how ol' man Reynolds is doing," he explained as he stepped further into the room, his attention immediately drawn to the seemingly countless newspaper clippings that covered one of the walls.

"Mr. Reynolds used to be your headmaster?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. "Since he hasn't worked in any school since Excelsior Prep and you can't be _that_ old, I'm going to assume you used to be Lex's school buddy."

"You're too smart for this town," he said, his lips curving into a smile.

"Tell me something I don't already know," she scoffed, only momentarily deterred from her goal. "So, an Excelsior alumnus…that means you come from one of those obnoxiously rich families."

"You could say that," he hedged. He knew he could just tell her which family tree he fit into but he wouldn't want to take her fun away.

"Hmm…so, ridiculously rich and California-based," she summed up the facts at her disposal. "That eliminates a few…and you're close enough to the Luthors to attend Lex's wedding but still call yourself his 'arch nemesis'…hmm."

He was promptly grinning by the time she was done. "Don't worry, Chloe, you'll figure out who I am soon enough," he said before gesturing toward the wall. "Now, I'm actually deeply curious as to what this is."

She observed him through narrowed eyes for another moment before excitement seemed to replace the perpetual curiosity. "Oh dear, where are my manners?" she wondered in some weird variation of the British accent. "Oliver – if that's even your real name – I would like to introduce you to the Wall of Weird."

"Wall of Weird?" he deadpanned, which only got her excitement to increase tenfold.

"Yep," she confirmed proudly. "It documents every strange and explained thing that's happened in Smallville since the meteor shower of '89."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that one…the shower, I mean. I understand scientists are still wondering where the hell it came from."

"You understand correctly."

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume you made all this by yourself."

"I did. I'm told I have an insatiable – and possibly unhealthy – curiosity."

"Well, that explains _a lot_."

"Mock me all you want, rich boy, but we'll see who's having the last laugh when I'm breaking headlines for the Daily Planet and you're still stuck doing…what is it that you do again?"

"Oh, nice try," he praised, grinning down at her. "But you're gonna have to do better than that."

"Come on, you've got to give me _something_ to go on," she complained but he just shook his head.

"Nah, that would be making it too easy for you," he replied, now smirking insufferably. "Come on, Chloe, what kind of a reporter are you? You can't expect all the facts to just be dropped on your lap."

She gasped in mock-shock and jabbed a condemning finger in his direction, even poking him in the shoulder once. "You don't know what you've just done, buddy," she warned him, eyes narrowing menacingly. "You won't even know what hit you once I unleash my full investigative reporter's wrath on you."

"I'm positively frightened," he deadpanned, making her swing her entire fist at his shoulder this time.

"Just remember this moment when they find your body buried six feet under in Evan's field," she threatened, making him arch an eyebrow.

"Well, I won't exactly be able to, what with being _dead_ and all that and…Evan's field?"

She nodded curtly. "Best place to hide a body, if you ask me."

"Dare I ask why and how you've come to that conclusion?"

"It's secluded, hidden by all sorts of vegetation so no one can see you from the road," she said evenly, her tone more fitting for someone discussing the weather than cold-blooded murder. "Plus, it's surrounded by trees from practically every side so you can make your escape and/or lose anyone who may be chasing after you, were you as unfortunate as to be caught in _flagrante delicto_."

He blinked. Then blinked again. And then a few more times. "You're really starting to scare me," he told her, his voice full of ill-disguised amusement. She rolled her eyes as his dramatics.

"Oh please, it's simple observation," she retorted, pointing her finger to the photo gracing one of the articles on the 'Wall of Weird'. "See?" she added, tapping her forefinger over the picture a few times for emphasis. As far as Oliver could tell, it showed Evan's field and – he had to admit – Chloe did really have a point about it being a prime body-hiding location.

He was about to congratulate her on the criminally-sophisticated workings of her mind when he heard a voice from the doorway.

"Hey, Chloe, the principal wants - " an African-American teen of approximately Chloe's age began but stopped short when he noticed that she wasn't alone. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were umm…occupied."

"It's okay, Pete," she said lightly, smiling before making the mandatory introductions. Oliver shook hands with Pete much like he had with Clark back at Lex's wedding, only Pete seemed to have more insight on the rich and famous than Chloe and Kent did because the next words coming out of his mouth were: "Hey, I know you, you're Oliver Q - "

To both men's surprise, Chloe let out a yelp and practically pounced forward, covering Pete's mouth with her hand and effectively silencing him. "Don't! I need to figure out who he is by myself," she warned sternly, looking Pete dead in the eye. "It's a matter of honor. Got it?"

Pete could only nod, the poor thing. Now apparently satisfied, Chloe released her friend and reverted right back to her usual charming, snarky self. "So, you were saying something about the principal?"

"Uh…y-yeah," Pete stammered, still slightly confused and Oliver couldn't help but grin. "He wants to see you in his office for that interview…"

"Oh yeah, that," she said, grabbing a notebook and pencil before making a beeline for the door and pausing just as she was about to exit the room, apparently remembering that she was leaving two people in her wake. "Bye, Oliver, and rest assured that you will be informed once I figure out your true identity," she said gravely over her shoulder before nodding curtly and disappearing out of sight.

"Bye," he called after her, now grinning so hard his face was starting to hurt. Well, his good mood was certainly back _now_.

* * *

That night, Chloe stayed way past her bedtime – well, not that she actually _had _one still – in order to uncover the secret identity of her new, blonde acquaintance. No one challenged her investigative skills and got away unscathed. No, sir.

She pulled up old pictures from the Excelsior website and started with Lex's generation, figuring he and Oliver were about the same age. She planned on broadening the search in case Oliver was either older or younger but it turned out he was in Lex's generation.

She let out a victorious 'ha' when her eyes zeroed in on the picture of a younger, teenage Oliver. She squinted as she read his name. _Oliver J. Queen_…now, where had she heard that one before?

Living up to her inner reporter, she googled him…and then promptly gaped as she read the results of her search.

_I'll be damned_, she thought idly before opening her e-mail client.

The following morning in Star City, Oliver braced himself before opening his business inbox. Nothing good ever came out of the e-mails he received there. It was an official QI account, published on the company's website, and while a team of people had readily offered their services to sort through his e-mail so he wouldn't have to bother, he had refused. He liked to know what was going on in his own company, thank you very much.

The first message caught his attention, since it listed a certain _Chloe_ Sullivan as the sender. He grinned widely as he opened and read it.

_You, my dear friend, are busted. I have to say though, I never would have thought that someone who can't even recognize a decent body dumpsite would be able to run a multi-billion company in his early twenties. I guess even the best of us are allowed to be wrong sometimes._

_Yours truly,_

_Chloe_

_P.S. I assume Jonas is yet another family name…_

His assistant promptly dropped her phone when his monstrous laugh echoed throughout the hallway.

* * *

**_Ten months later_**

Oliver was driving through the highways of the Kansas countryside in a somewhat foul mood. He had two business meetings in that particular state, one in Metropolis and one in Arkansas City. Since going green was kind of his thing, he figured he'd just drive between the two, not wanting to use unnecessary jet fuel.

The meeting in Arkansas City was over – and it had not gone over particularly well, resulting in his current mood – and he was now headed to the one in Metropolis.

He saw a sign saying 'Smallville' at a turn and couldn't help but smile slightly. He and Chloe hadn't actually talked since his last visit – apart from that reply e-mail he'd sent her – so it wasn't like he had any reason to make a detour from his business trip just to get a fix of some good-quality banter.

So he ignored the sign and continued his journey until a piece of landscape caught his eye. He stopped the car and parked it on the edge of the road, biting his lower lip as he observed what was – he was certain of it – Evan's field. Well, he might not have any bodies to dispose of at the moment but…a little target practice wouldn't hurt.

He'd had – as of quite recently – been working to perfect his archery skills even further and to bring himself to top-shape. He'd had reasons for it too. Soon, Star City's resident vigilante was going to make his big debut and he'd be damned if he let himself get either caught or killed on his first night out.

With an ever-growing smile, he opened his trunk and took out his bows and arrows before stepping through the high grass and bushes and into the field. Chloe had been right; no one could see him from the road and the numerous trees that surrounded the field – while quite handy for an escape-strategy – also made for some great improvised targets.

Loading his bow, he aimed for one of the trees and fired.

* * *

Chloe had gone to Evan's field in the purpose of clearing her head and philosophizing over life without unwanted interruptions. Her recent encounter with Perry White had left her in a somewhat pensive mood; she couldn't help but wonder how it was that a single man – however powerful – could bring down a career as thriving as Perry's down. She also wondered if, when she became a star-reporter for the DP, a similar predicament would come her way…and how she would handle it. She liked to think that she wouldn't abandon it all like Perry did, but…

Her inner musings were interrupted as her toes hit something in the grass. Intrigued, she crouched down to examine the object. Picking it up and turning it in her hand, she realized it was an arrowhead. An _actual_ arrowhead…from an _actual _arrow.

_The things you won't find in the fields of Kansas_, she mused inwardly as she straightened back up, placed the arrowhead in her pocket and continued with her walk.


	3. In the Land of the Weird, Home of the St

_A/N: I am having so much fun with this series, it's just ridiculous. On a side note, do you guys remember Adam, Lana's boyfriend for a good chunk of that season who went after her with a shotgun in the end and was played by our dear Mr. Somerhalder? And is it just me or did like half the cast of The Vampire Diaries pop up in Smallville at one point or another? Ian Somerhalder as Adam, Paul Wesley as Lucas is 'Prodigal', Sara Canning (aka aunt Jenna) as that bodyguard of sorts at the Luthor mansion in the earlier episodes of S8...not to mention that Her Awesomeness Cassidy Freeman is guest-starring on TVD right now. Seriously, I almost feel obligated to write some form of crossover..._

_...fret not, it will never happen._

_And also, a big, huge thank you goes to April (all4chlollie) for being my beta._

_That all said, hope you enjoy this installment :)_

* * *

_Summary: Set during 3x11 'Delete'. An unfriendly e-mail and axe-wielding friend make Chloe a distressing damsel, causing Oliver to come to the rescue._

* * *

**In the Land of the Weird, Home of the Strange**

Chloe couldn't even attempt to force a smile on her face as she made her way through the school's corridors, heading for The Torch.

_Nothing like your part-time BFF/lifelong crush trying to flatten you with his truck to spoil the mood_, she thought grimly as she approached her destination. She did know that Clark hadn't done it on purpose – at least, she was really hoping he didn't – especially after discovering that inaccessible e-mail on his laptop but it was still an experience she'd rather forget. And she just couldn't shake the feeling that someone was out to get her; it just couldn't be a coincidence that Clark felt obligated to kill _her_, of all people. If he simply needed a target, he could've just picked someone on his way out of the library, right? Maybe it was her recent unfortunate entanglement with Lionel Luthor that was starting to make her paranoid…

"Morning."

She almost screamed as she heard the word being spoken from inside her lair. Jumping a few steps back and clutching her heart in bewilderment, she spotted a now familiar blonde billionaire leaning casually against the side of her desk. What could he be possibly doing in –

And then a possibility – a direct result of her paranoia, most likely – came rushing to the forefront of her mind.

"Are you here to try and kill me too?" she asked in despair, not quite daring to cross the threshold just yet.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Uh…that's not the purpose of my visit, no," he said slowly, his gaze turning wary as the implications of her statement sank in fully. "But I take it that means you've had a near-death experience recently. What's going on?"

She let out a sigh of relief. He didn't seem under some command to whack her and besides, who in their right mind would go all the way to Oliver Queen to have her killed?

"Oh you know, the usual," she replied in a lighter tone as she finally made her way inside, dropping her bag on her chair. "My friend tried to run me over with his car. Just another weeknight."

"Your friend tried to run you over?" he echoed in disbelief.

"Apparently, he wasn't acting of his own volition," she clarified, booting up her computer. "We think someone forced him to do it somehow…he doesn't even remember trying to turn me into a human pancake."

"Wow," was all Oliver could manage at her explanation, making her smile ever-so-slightly.

"Believe it or not, that's not even the weirdest thing that's happened to me in this town," she said nonchalantly, before refocusing her attention on a more interesting subject matter. "So, if you're not here to make sure I never see the light of day again," she began, eyeing him down, "Why _are_ you here?"

"Uh…I actually needed your expertise on something," he replied truthfully once he regained his wits.

"My expertise? On what exactly?"

"Meteor rocks," he replied, reaching in his pocket to retrieve his phone. "See, Queen Industries has a few projects revolving around nanotechnology and one in particular involves using nanoparticles to extract foreign substances from the body…you know, like cancer cells, tumors, toxins…all sorts of biological agents."

"Okay…" she said slowly, taking a moment to idly admire all the benefits for modern medicine such a project could ensure. "I still don't get where I fit into all of that."

"Well, you see, this kid showed up at the Star City QI lab that runs the project, practically begging the lead scientist to use the technology on him to remove what was inside of him because it was turning him into – and I quote – a monster."

"He's meteor-infected," Chloe let out quietly, quickly connecting the dots. Oliver nodded in confirmation.

"His blood work showed elevated amounts of meteor-rock in his system," he said, handing her his phone which now showed a picture of a teenager, presumably the 'kid' that had showed up in the lab. "All he said was that he was in Smallville visiting family one day and that he was never the same afterwards…now, given your involvement in all things weird and unexplained that have transpired in this town, I thought maybe you could help me figure out what happened to this kid."

She nodded, observing the picture. She didn't recognize the guy, but that didn't mean he couldn't have become infected in Smallville. "Yeah, I can walk you through the effects meteor-rocks seem to have on those who get up close and personal with them," she said, lifting her eyes from the screen and handing him back the phone. "If you think it'll help."

"Any help would be good right now," he admitted, sighing heavily. "The kid is so scared and I just want to help him but…as far as my scientists have told me, the meteor-rock is bound to his blood cells and our technology is nowhere near advanced enough to be used for that kind of extraction," he told her, sounding defeated.

She bit her lip, feeling sorry for the infected boy. Her own experience with meteor-infected people aside, no one deserved to live with that kind of fear.

"Well, look umm…my classes for the day are over and I just have to finish a few things here and then grab some books from my locker, so why don't you wait for me outside and then we can head to the Talon and I'll tell you everything I know there?" she suggested.

"What's the Talon?" he asked curiously.

"The place with the best coffee in town," she replied in a beat, her mouth almost immediately starting to water at the prospect of having a big, hot cappuccino…

"That can't be too hard to achieve in a town this small," he quipped, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

"Funny," she deadpanned. "So, what d'you say?"

"Yeah, sure," he agreed, shrugging a little. "You do your thing here and I'll be waiting for you outside. Hint: my car is the big shiny one," he added before heading out of her office, smirking when she rolled her eyes.

She checked her e-mails quickly, adjusted a thing or two for her new article and then headed for her locker to get the books she needed for her next exam. Not that she would be able to focus on studying much.

She made a quick stop on the stairwell to check a thing or two on the bulletin board when she caught glimpse of Lana approaching her in quick strides.

"Hey, Lana, I've been - "

Next thing she knew, the brunette's fist was colliding with her face.

* * *

Oliver took his time getting to his car, figuring Chloe could take a while to get everything done. He was nearing the exit when a sudden burst of commotion caught his attention. Girls were screaming, guys were yelling and teachers were running around like beheaded flies. His instincts kicked in and he followed the escalating sounds of a struggle, finally arriving at the entrance of the girls' locker room. He paused there, feeling slightly uneasy at the prospect of barging into such a private female space but then he spotted the fight in progress at the far end of the room, under the spray of one of the shower stalls. Chloe was on the ground, trying to fend off a girl going at her with an…wait, was that an _axe_?

His legs sprung to action and he crossed the room in no time, arriving just in time to grab the axe's handle as Chloe's attacker lifted it high above her head. The petite brunette surprised him by turning around and swinging a leg to his midsection, effectively forcing all the air out of his lungs and making him double over in pain momentarily. He quickly recovered though and pushed the girl to the side just as she was readying to take another swing at Chloe. Her leg shot out again but Oliver caught it this time, twisting it abruptly to make her loose her balance. He succeeded and she landed on the floor but threw both her legs out and upwards, hitting Oliver square in the stomach and sending him toppling backwards, subsequently landing on his back with a grunt. For a small thing like that, she sure did pack a powerful punch.

The girl was on her feet again but was caught off guard by Chloe herself this time; the blonde kicked her in the shins, causing her to land on the floor once again, hitting her head on the ceramic tiles of the stall and loosing consciousness momentarily.

Oliver was on his feet in an instant, making his way to Chloe. "Are you okay?" he asked in concern, noticing that she had a rather deep gash on her forehead, even though the water pounding down on them had washed away most of the blood.

She nodded hastily before scrambling to the other girl's side. The latter was just coming to and the first words coming out of her mouth when her eyes finally opened were: "What happened?"

* * *

About an hour later found Oliver in the infamous Talon, tending to Chloe's head injury. They were in the company of Clark, the brunette mini-ninja – whose name Oliver learned to be Lana – and the mini-ninja's apparent boyfriend of sorts, who went by the name of Adam.

"So, we can rule out paranoia," Chloe stated ruefully as Oliver put the final touches on the patches that were now covering her battle wound. "Someone is officially trying to kill me."

"Not just someone," Clark supplied with a significant look, obviously referring to the fact that – so far – her failed assassins have all been people she was close to.

"Yeah, well, either way, it doesn't look good for me."

Oliver had to agree on that one.

"Chloe, I am so sorry," Lana apologized for what was most likely the millionth time as she handed Chloe an ice-pack which the latter gingerly pressed against her forehead. "I can't believe I went after you like that."

"Yeah, well I can't believe you got us suspended," Chloe retorted bitingly before sighing deeply. "I'm just glad Oliver was there," she added before smiling at him thankfully. "You've got some cool moves, you know."

"Meh, I just took a martial arts class or two back in the day," he brushed it off, returning her smile. "It was no big deal."

"Well, if you hadn't been there, I would be walking around beheaded right now so – as melodramatic as that sounds – I kinda owe you my life."

"Don't sell yourself short, Chloe, you got a few decent kicks in too," he replied, pointing to Lana's split lip.

"Yeah…" she said, now looking at Lana. "You know, I'd apologize for that, but since you tried to kill me and all, I think we're even."

Lana smiled meekly, looking contrite. "I really don't know what happened, Chloe," she asserted again, causing Clark to get a pensive look on his face.

"Did you get an e-mail before the attack by any chance?" he asked, making Lana frown.

"Maybe…let me check."

She dug through her purse and snatched her phone, scrolling through her inbox before her eyes widened. "I did actually…"

"Let me guess… 'brain wave' was the sender?" Clark questioned again, a distinctively grim look settling on his features when she nodded. "I got one too before I…well, you know…"

"Charged at me with your big, manly Dodge?" Chloe supplied chirpily, causing Clark's mouth to twitch into something between a smile and a grimace.

"Yeah, that."

"So wait, are we talking about some kind of mind-control here?" Oliver interjected, trying to piece it all together.

"It wouldn't be that much of a stretch," Adam pitched in with his two cents. "The human mind is extremely open to suggestions…the visual information in the e-mail could be some kind of trigger."

There was silence for a few moments, as everyone stared at him. "What?" he asked defensively. "I read a lot."

"Okay…but if we are talking mind-control, wouldn't it have been easier to just send me an e-mail telling me to go hang myself from the nearest tree?" Chloe asked, making Adam shake his head.

"No amount of mind-control can override your survival instincts," he explained. "The brain is programmed to stay alive by any means necessary so that kind of command wouldn't have been effective."

"What kind of books do you read exactly?" Oliver asked incredulously and Adam shrugged non-committedly.

"A wide variety."

"I can see that."

"Guys," Clark interrupted impatiently, "maybe we should focus on figuring out who's after Chloe."

Oliver nodded gravely. "You are absolutely right, Clark," he said in his most serious tone, making Chloe bite her lip in amusement. "So, Chloe, who have you majorly pissed off lately?"

"Would you like that in alphabetical or chronological order?" she quipped, making him sigh.

"How you have managed to tick off so many people by the age of seventeen is really beyond me."

"I told you. I have an absolutely unhealthy curiosity."

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Guys!" Clark cut in yet again, more irritably this time. "Can we please focus on the problem at hand here?"

Oliver and Chloe both shut their mouths instantly but exchanged one last amused look before refocusing their attention on – what was in Oliver's mind – the most dedicated, honorable and joy-killing of boy scouts.

Seemingly satisfied that he had their full attention back, Clark went on. "Maybe we should track whoever sent those e-mails," he suggested. "That ought to give us a clue as to who is behind all of this."

"I can probably trace the IP address back to its original source," Adam said, shrugging his shoulders and earning himself yet another incredulous look from Oliver.

"Seriously, dude…" the latter spoke, a look of slight wariness on his face, "I'm afraid to even wonder what goes on inside your head."

Adam just smiled lightly at that, already reaching in Lana's bag for her laptop. "Trust me, you don't wanna know," he tossed back before booting up the computer and getting to work. A few minutes later, the machine beeped, signaling that they had a match for the source of the e-mail.

Adam's brows furrowed in confusion, though. "It says here it originated from a computer listed under your name," he said slowly, lifting his head from the screen to look at Chloe. "And that the computer is property of LuthorCorp."

"That must be one of the computers that Lionel donated to the school but took back a few days ago…" Chloe mused, eyes widening in understanding.

"He took _donated_ computers back?" Oliver questioned incredulously, his brows going all the way to his hairline. "And why on Earth do you call him by his first name?"

"I got involved with him a few months back," Chloe offered an explanation, her main focus still being to figure out how LuthorCorp could be involved in all of this, which was why she missed the look of wary disgust that crossed Oliver's face.

"When you say involved…" he began, wariness still clearly etched on his features, "Please tell me you mean the kind of involvement that implies that _both_ of you kept your clothes _on_."

That caused her to whip her head in his direction, scandalized. "Of course we kept our clothes on, it was nothing, and I mean _nothing_, like that, why would you even - "

"Hey, there are a lot of pervs out there these days," he defended, even raising his hands in surrender, "And I wouldn't put it past good ol'Lionel to, ya know - "

"Don't finish that sentence."

"Okay."

"You don't think that he's behind this, do you?" Clark asked, sounding skeptic. "I mean, I'm sure you got on his nerves, but this feels a bit extreme."

"I know," Chloe replied, biting her lower lip now in concentration. "As cruel and ruthless as Lionel is, I don't think he'd really bother with getting me out of the way. This is someone else."

"Who has ties with LuthorCorp?" Lana wondered, finally joining in on the debate.

"Maybe, maybe not," Chloe retorted, "They could have just stolen my hard-drive from the computer."

"We'll need to narrow it down," Clark stated the obvious, making both Chloe and Oliver roll their eyes.

_Yeah, no shit, Sherlock_, Oliver thought sarcastically and – if the look on her face was anything to go by – Chloe was thinking along the same lines he did.

"Maybe you can talk to Lex," she suggested, "See if he knows anything."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Clark agreed, nodding along.

"You know, it still amazes me that you're all friends with Lex," Oliver mused, eyeing them all down thoughtfully.

"I'm not," Adam interjected, raising his right hand.

"He's actually a nice guy, once you get to know him," Lana said, making Oliver scoff.

"I don't know what he's told you, but the Lex I know… well, let's just say that 'nice' isn't exactly the way I'd describe him."

"He's changed since then," Clark defended his bald BFF but Oliver wasn't convinced.

"I don't know, Clark. People like Lex…they don't change for the better just like that. I wouldn't trust him, even now."

"Everyone deserves a second chance," Clark held his ground, sounding very passionate about the topic. "We all make mistakes and we all deserve an opportunity to make amends."

"I'll give you that but where Lex is concerned…I'll believe it when I see it," Oliver stated firmly, effectively ending that line of discussion. "Now," he then spoke again, focusing his attention back on Chloe, "while we wait for Nancy Drew here to dig up some more clues on whoever it is that's trying to end your lovely existence, I think we should get you somewhere safe where no one will come looking for you."

Chloe nodded in agreement as Clark scowled at Oliver's choice of nickname for him.

"That's probably a good idea," she said, sighing deeply. "Maybe I could stay with Lex in the mansion…I don't think he'll mind, he's rarely there these days…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on," Oliver interrupted, "Are you sure that's a good idea? To stay with the spawn of Satan, I mean? He could murder you in your sleep, you know."

"Oliver…" she chided, shaking her head in disapproval of his mistrust. "He won't try and murder me…unless he feels obliged to after receiving a very friendly e-mail, of course."

"My point exactly. If whoever is behind this has ties to LuthorCorp, they might know you're – as disturbing and unsettling as that is – friends with Lex. And if they _do_ know, that would make him the perfect assassin, since you're staying under his roof."

She pursed her lips in thought, considering his argument. "I assume your next step is to suggest I stay with you," she said lightly, raising an eyebrow.

"How did you ever figure out my master plan?"

"All you white knights in search of distressing damsels to rescue are so predictable," she explained flatly and he had to chuckle.

"True," he agreed, smiling back at her. "But still, you have to admit it's the best solution to - "

"Hold on a sec," Clark cut in, not looking very pleased with Oliver's idea. "We barely even know you. I'm not letting Chloe spend the night with you."

A brief pause ensued as Clark realized what he'd just said. Before he could salvage the situation though, Chloe had already taken advantage of his unfortunate slip.

"Who are you to deny me a night with one of this country's most eligible bachelors?" she asked in mock-outrage. "I could be dead tomorrow, Clark," she went on, now clutching at her chest in feigned hurt. "Are you really willing to take away one last hour of carnal pleasure from me before I leave this world?"

Clark was slowly but surely turning redder than his jacket, obviously uncomfortable with subject of the three-lettered word that shall not be named. Oliver decided to play along, if only to mess with the Boy Scout.

"Oh, I can assure you it would be more than an hour," he said in all seriousness.

"Is it just me or is this getting out of hand?" Adam whispered in Lana's ear, making the latter stifle a chuckle.

"Just sit back and enjoy the show," she advised, matching his hushed tone.

"Really?" Chloe questioned, now turning back to Oliver. "How long are we talking about?"

"At least three hours, give or take."

"Impressive."

"I like to think so."

"You know I didn't mean it like that!" Clark finally found his voice, even if it did sound remarkably shrill. He cleared his throat before resuming his previous argument. "I meant that we have absolutely no reason to trust _you_. Like I said, we barely know you."

"Really, Clark? I just saved her life…why do that only to kill her afterwards?"

"I'm not saying you'll try to kill her…I'm just saying that…you'll…you know…use the situation to your own advantage."

It took Oliver all of his willpower to keep a straight face. "What if I promise to be a perfect gentleman?"

"You…you…"

"Okay, boys, cut it out," Chloe finally joined into the conversation, eyeing them both down mirthfully. "I think that Oliver has a point," she then said more seriously. "No one would even think to make a connection between us and he did save my life before. Chances are he'll do it again if necessary."

"But…"

"No 'but's, Clark. I'm doing it...With Oliver," she added for the sole reason of watching Clark squirm again.

"So it's settled then," Oliver stated with finality and standing up. "We're doing it."

"Yes, we are," Chloe agreed, standing up herself.

"Do you want to head back to Metropolis and experience all the charms of my presidential hotel suite or do you want to stay closer to home and rent a room in whichever motel there is in this town?" he asked lightly as they started heading toward the door.

"I'm more partial to the motel," she replied. "I'm a girl of simplicity."

"Motel it is," were the last words to be heard from him as they went out of earshot.

A few moments passed in silence before Clark turned toward the two people left at the table. "What just happened?"

* * *

"Did you see his face?" Chloe cackled as they passed the threshold of their newly-booked motel room not too far from the Talon.

Oliver joined her in her laughter as he closed and locked the door behind him. "He's something else, that guy," he agreed, making her sigh wistfully.

"He is."

"Uh-oh…I know that voice. That's the 'we've got history' voice."

"You have no idea."

"So…were you two together or…"

"I wish, but no," she replied, sitting down on the bed. "Brunettes are more his type."

"Now that's just dumb. Everyone knows that _blondes_ are the most fun," Oliver said lightly, tossing her a can of soda from the mini-bar and taking one for himself.

"I know, right? But I think it's for the best actually…he wouldn't have been able to handle me."

"Definitely not, the prude that he is," Oliver agreed, making himself comfortable in one of the armchairs next to the bed. "So, since we're stuck together now, I guess we better get onto the bonding. I can even braid your hair if you want."

"I think I'll pass. You know, we could always talk about that meteor-infected guy you mentioned," she suggested. "I mean, that was the whole point of your trip, wasn't it?"

"It was but from what I've gathered, you have a less-than-pleasant experience with the meteor-infected and I really wouldn't want to make you reminisce it all in your current situation. So we'll just talk about fun stuff. Like…what do you want to be when you grow up?"

She had to laugh at that one. "You're really giving me the all-features-included package, aren't you? You make sure I stay alive, keep me company and do your best to make me forget my troubles."

"It is the best service that White Knights Incorporated offers, yes."

She smiled even wider, shaking her head slightly before speaking again. "Well, to answer your question, when I grow up, I want to be - "

"A Daily Planet reporter," he finished for her, smirking when her eyes widened. "You've mentioned it once or twice. Or ten times."

"Alright, smart-ass, what about you?"

"Me? That's easy. I want to be a superhero," he declared in utmost seriousness.

"A superhero?"

"Mmm-hmm. I want to save the world."

"That's a definitely a noble career path," she praised as she took a long sip of her beverage. "Any ideas on what your costume will look like? Every superhero needs to have one."

"I'm partial to something of the green variety," he mused, a far-away look on his face.

"Spandex or Kevlar?"

"Neither. I'd go for leather."

"Interesting choice. Wouldn't leather be a little harder to maneuver in, though?"

"It's all about the challenge."

"Gadgets?"

"Loads. I'm thinking zip-lines, voice distorters, night-vision glasses, the whole nine yards."

"You'd certainly be able to afford it. Speaking of which, what's your billionaire's hobby? I know that Lex is really into collecting absurdly expensive antiques and stuff."

"Hmm…would you consider 'playboying' a hobby?"

"Really? _That_'s your hobby?"

He shrugged. "I think it is, yeah."

"Don't you get tired of it after a while? I mean, there's only so many women you can sleep with."

"I'm actually working on breaking the world record."

"What _is_ the world record?"

"No idea, but I'm breaking it."

"Ambitious and confident. I like it."

"Thank you."

"Question."

"What's that?"

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her previously light-hearted and cheerful voice gone.

"Why am I doing what?" he questioned back, confused and slightly disconcerted by the brusque change of topic.

"This. Keeping me safe, saving my life, whatever you want to call it," she replied, looking him straight in the eye and it suddenly struck how mature for her age she really was. "Clark is right, you know. You barely know me…why would you go out of your way to protect me?"

Oliver pursed his lips, considering his answer. He could go for teasing and witty but something told him that, in this particular situation, she would much rather appreciate an honest, straight answer.

"Well," he began, sitting up a bit straighter and returning her gaze dead-on, "for one, I do have some form of white knight syndrome. I like to help people, be it distressing damsels or meteor-infected teens. Second, I do actually enjoy talking to you. Honestly, you are the single most interesting person I've met recently."

"So…you're saying that you're doing this for both selfless _and_ selfish reasons?" she challenged, the hints of a smile playing on her lips and he knew they were back to the old playing field.

"I'm nothing if not a walking contradiction."

Her smile turned into a full-fledged grin at that. "For what it's worth, you're the single most interesting person I've met in quite a while too," she said softly, making him arch his eyebrows in mock-surprise.

"_Moi_, the most interesting person you've met in quite a while? Next to Clark Kent, farm-boy extraordinaire and Lana whatever-her-last-name-is, the miniature ninja? Oh, you flatter me."

She laughed whole-heartedly at that, a deep, throaty, rumbling laugh, spiced here and there with a few un-lady-like snorts.

Oliver joined her in her merriment, waiting for her to wind down and wondering all the while what on Earth had possessed him to tell her all that stuff about his super-heroic dreams of saving the world. He was supposed to be more careful than that, to make sure everyone believed that Oliver Queen was a good for nothing who would never put anyone else's wellbeing before his. And what had he done? Well, he had basically dropped every possible hint under the sun that he was a green-leather-wearing vigilante with loads of gadgets to a future investigative reporter. He blamed it all on her inborn ability to draw anyone into a conversation without them realizing that they were gradually enveloping themselves into her web.

With some luck, she would forget all about it soon enough. At least, he really hoped she did.

Before either of them could speak again, there was a knock on the door. She immediately stopped with her rather noisy laughter and went completely silent and rigid, obviously on alert. He gave her a reassuring nod before making his way to the door. He didn't even have to ask who it was before Clark could be heard from the other side of the wooden barrier, announcing his presence and stating that he'd found the culprit.

Oliver opened the door with a big smile on his face. "You'd really make a hell of a Nancy Drew, man."

* * *

Chloe was still in what one might call a state of shock. After Clark had showed up with a picture of Molly, a woman she'd interviewed for her article on Summerholt, everything had gone down pretty fast.

She'd called Mark, her only remaining ally at the DP who was going to go through with her article, trying to warn him of the danger only to hear him get murdered by his secretary on the other end of the line.

Clark had gone to Metropolis to hunt Molly down and was apparently assisted in his quest by Lex while Chloe had stayed in her motel room with Oliver. No amount of banter and joking had managed to cheer her up so he'd just let her be, busying himself with QI business while she sat on the bed, staring into space.

Hours passed and it was getting late, so Oliver suggested she head to bed. She refused, saying that she wasn't the least bit tired and that she would probably just end up with nightmares if she did make a trip to dreamland, insisting that they talk about the meteor-infected boy that had showed up in Star City. Oliver went along with her request and soon, he was acquainted with everything there was to know about just how much damage a few green rocks from outer space could cause. He'd also learned that chances were the kid was going to turn into a psycho and get homicidal in little to no time. Now that was a cheerful thought.

The conversation stretched for a couple more hours before they finally received a call from Clark, telling them that Molly was caught and that the coast was clear. It was only then that Chloe accepted to get some shuteye.

In the morning, Oliver had driven Chloe just down the street from her house, per her insistence. She had told her father that she'd spent the night at Lana's, so seeing her getting dropped off by an unidentified blonde man could get Mr. Sullivan a bit suspicious.

"Thank you for everything, Oliver," she said earnestly as he pulled the car to a stop.

"Don't mention it," he dismissed, smiling at her. "I'm just glad that you're okay and that I could be of help."

"Well, I still owe you. Big time. So, if you ever need any help with meteor-related problems or in disposing of a body, you know who to call."

"I most definitely do. It was really good to see you again, Chloe," he told her with sincerity, making her smile.

"You too, Oliver," she returned the sentiment before exiting the car. "Bye," she said as she closed the door behind her and waving over her shoulder as she made her way down the street.

He waved back, starting the engine again and driving away. That had certainly been an interesting trip.


	4. In the Home of Victims, Sycophants and H

_A/N: Yes, I am back again. Truth be told, I never intended on writing a Chlollie moment set in this particular episode but inspiration hit unexpectedly when I was re-watching 'Obsession' so...*shrugs*_

_This little piece is kind of short-ish but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless._

_Also, all my gratitude goes to April for being my beta._

* * *

_Summary: Set during 3x14 'Obsession'. Chloe's dreadful class fieldtrip to LuthorCorp gets a surprising refreshment in the form of a certain blond billionaire._

* * *

**In the Home of Victims, Sycophants and Hatchet Men**

Chloe shifted in her spot for the umpteenth time, begging the heavens to just end her misery. Really, she couldn't even begin to imagine a more tedious, pointless and overall uncomfortable waste of her time. She idly wondered what on Earth had driven her to take Advanced Economics…then again, she never actually expected for the class to include a fancy little fieldtrip to the land of all things evil and a personal tour by the devil himself. It was truly unnerving to stand in such close proximity to Lionel Luthor, especially since their unfortunate entanglement had ended on such a threatening note.

And apparently, Clark was sharing her sentiment. He kept tapping his foot impatiently and glancing non-too-subtly at his watch, obviously praying as hard as she did for it all to end.

Reluctantly, she tuned back in to Lionel's speech.

"…traditional rules, supply and demand - they're secondary. But to rise above those rules, to know when to break them, requires absolute personal commitment," the aging man droned on and on. "I consider it a prerequisite for success."

_And I consider it despicable, immoral and possibly illegal_, she thought sarcastically while rolling her eyes. She was just about to share her inner musings with Clark when another voice floated into her hearing range.

"And of course, a little bit of dazzling charm can never hurt your case either," Oliver Queen in all his business-suited glory spoke lightly as he approached the group with steady, carefree steps.

All eyes turned to the newest arrival and Chloe had more than just a little difficulty in keeping a straight face. Only Oliver could waltz into the very heart of LuthorCorp – looking completely at ease – and steal the spotlight from the head of the company with a single strategically-placed quip. He truly was a hero in every sense of the word; he was even saving her from death by boredom now.

"Ah, Oliver," Lionel greeted with feigned amicability but it was obvious – to Chloe, at least – that he would much rather be suffocating him with his bare hands at the moment. "May I present Oliver Queen, CEO of Queen Industries," Lionel then made the mandatory introductions to the group. "He is currently in town to seal a very profitable deal between our companies."

"Gentlemen," Oliver addressed the male portion of the class with a polite nod before his demeanor changed noticeably. "Ladies," he then turned to the already grinning girls, his patented Queen smile that guaranteed to dazzle you out of your socks firmly in place.

Chloe couldn't help it; she snorted, covering it quickly with a cough.

Predictably, Oliver immediately focused his attention on her. "Anything the matter, Miss…"

"Sullivan," she supplied, playing along. "Chloe Sullivan."

"Lovely name," he complimented, suave as ever. She had to admit it was a bit disconcerting to have his charms turned all the way up and directed at her. So far, their interactions had only had a sort of friendly vibe to them, meaning that she didn't quite know what it looked like to be sweet-talked into losing every piece of your clothing in a blink of an eye by the infamous Queen heir. She had to admit that all the girls that fell under his spell kind of made sense now.

_We are such pathetic creatures_, she thought sadly.

"Are you alright?" Oliver proceeded to ask, now sporting a quite convincing mask of concern on his face. "You look a little pale."

Catching onto his game rapidly, she spoke in her best sickly voice. "I do feel a bit under the weather," she said, rubbing a hand over her forehead with a sigh of extreme suffering. "I must be catching a cold."

"Well, we certainly can't have you exerting yourself with all this walking in that condition," he spoke, his acting still impeccable. "Why don't you let me walk you to the cafeteria and have them prepare you some nice tea with honey? It will do wonders to your cold, I can assure you."

She nodded, making sure she did so very slowly. "I think it's a good idea, yeah. I could use a snack as well…"

"Say no more," he told her, stepping into the crowd to drape an arm over her shoulders before starting to lead her away. "I will personally see to it that you get the best possible food this lovely establishment has to offer. I'm sure your teacher won't mind," he then added, turning toward Mrs. Allen who had a somewhat awestruck expression on her face. "We can't let Miss Sullivan pass out right in the middle of LuthorCorp, can we?"

"Of-of course not," Mrs. Allen was quick to agree.

"You are very understanding, Mrs…"

"Allen…"

"Mrs. Allen. Well, Lionel," he went on to address his rival nonchalantly, "I suppose I will be seeing you later. It was a pleasure meeting you all," he then added for the group's benefit before once again resuming their route to the cafeteria. "Now, if you'll come with me, Miss Sullivan…"

Chloe trotted along, not daring to look back at Clark, certain that she would lose all and any control she had over herself and burst out laughing at the expression on her friend's face.

"You are my savior," she spoke quietly once she was sure they were out of earshot.

He chuckled softly, squeezing her shoulder lightly in an affectionate manner. "You looked like you were in the deepest circle of hell…it was therefore my - "

" – duty as white knight extraordinaire to come to my rescue," she finished his sentence, giving him a sideways smirk. "Yeah, I know."

He grinned widely at that. "Am I really that predictable?"

"Absolutely. But I do owe you a thank you."

"By all means, feel free to express your gratitude in any way you see fit."

"Oh, the possibilities…" she mused wistfully, her eyes taking on a far-away look as she appeared to be lost in thought.

He grinned even wider as they finally made their way into the rather vacant cafeteria and made a beeline for the counter. "Hi," he addressed the barista, flashing that annoyingly perfect smile of his and immediately gaining the girl's attention, "I'll take a medium latte and the lady will have…" he trailed off, letting Chloe place her order by herself.

The petite blonde was quiet for a moment, munching on her lower lip before speaking. "Any way you could fix me a triple-shot decaf caramel java-chip white-chocolate mocha?"

The barista blinked. So did Oliver.

"Uh…what she said," the latter told the wide-eyed girl behind the counter once he was sufficiently recovered from his state of shock. The barista nodded at length, uttering a polite 'your order will be right up, Mr. Queen' before getting to work.

"Tell me something," Oliver said as they waited for their beverages, "Do you always order stuff like this or did you just want to mess with that poor girl for the heck of it?"

"Well, I usually settle for the plain and boring concoctions you mere mortals drink, but since you're buying this one, I figured I could indulge myself."

"Who said I was buying?"

"I did," she stated proudly, making him sigh deeply.

"I really pity the poor soul who will one day have the misfortune of calling himself your husband."

She laughed light-heartedly at that one, all the previous discomfort she'd felt from being trapped inside this house of evil long gone. They chatted idly for a couple more minutes as they waited for their coffees before hearing some sort of alarm go off in the distance.

"What was that?" she asked, immediately on alert. Oliver's previous smile quickly turned into a frown as his entire body tensed, as if instinctively preparing itself for battle.

"Let's go check it out," he said quickly as he spotted one of the guards storm past the cafeteria's doors. They took off after the security guard, leaving their drinks and the now scowling barista behind.

They followed the masses, quickly getting reunited with Chloe's classmates and teacher. "What happened?" she asked a very flustered Mrs. Allen, falling into step with the elder woman.

"One of the elevators crashed," her teacher spoke hastily with a hint of fear in her voice. "I think Alicia and Clark were in it…"

"What?" Chloe exclaimed, now starting to feel panicky. She rushed past both her teacher and the other students, taking the steps leading to the main lobby two at a time with Oliver right behind her. They all arrived in the lobby almost simultaneously and fearing the worst, only to find both Clark and Alicia standing in front of the elevator doors, not a scratch on them.

"Are you two alright?" Mrs. Allen was the first to ask the two teenagers.

"Yeah, yeah, we're okay," Clark was quick to reassure, glancing toward Alicia for a brief moment. "The elevator crashed just as we got out of the doors. It sounded like the cable broke. "

"How did that happen?" Chloe asked incredulously as she finally managed to make her way to her dark-haired best friend's side.

"I don't know," he replied, sounding slightly agitated which, Chloe knew, was only natural in this kind of near-death experience.

"Lionel really needs to get a better maintenance crew," Oliver noted grimly as he eyed the doomed elevator with a wary expression. "At least this answers the question of whether or not I'll be taking the stairs to get to my meeting this afternoon."

"Don't joke right now," Chloe chided, still inspecting Clark for non-existing injuries.

"Well, excuse me for trying to lighten the mood," he retorted sarcastically, earning himself a rather mighty glare from her. "I am glad you're okay, though," he told Clark sincerely to which the latter nodded.

"Thanks."

"Alright, class, I think it's time we get going," Mrs. Allen practically had to yell in order to be heard over all the noise the commotion was causing. "The bus is waiting."

"Right, okay," Chloe muttered, shaking her head quickly to clear it. "It was nice to see you again, Oliver," she said, angling her body to the right so she could face the taller blonde. "Thanks again for rescuing me from the clutches of boredom back there and for being so kind as to offer to buy me coffee."

He smirked. "It was my absolute pleasure."

"You are such a gentleman," she praised, looking up at him with mock-admiration. "It's really a rare thing to come by these days."

"I'm a gentleman," Clark protested, looking mildly offended by the implications of her statement.

"Of course you are, Clark. I wouldn't dare imply otherwise."

"Sullivan, Kent, move along!" came their teacher's rather impatient voice.

"Coming!" Chloe shouted back but remained in her spot. "So, as I was saying, it was nice seeing you, I hope we run into each other again, yadda yadda yadda, bye," she said it all in one breath before finally deciding to comply with Mrs. Allen's orders.

"Bye," Oliver called after her with a big smile on his face. She certainly knew how to make his day interesting, that girl. Still, the fun was officially over, meaning that all he had to look forward to in the foreseeable future was a tête-a-tête with a man he thoroughly despised.

_Fantastic_, he thought wryly as he moved toward the upper floors once more, making a quick mental note to pay for those coffees they never had a chance to drink.


	5. In the Midst of Lies, Secrets and Conniv

_A/N: I am back again :)_

_We're getting into season 4 now and you all know what that means, right? Yep, our blondes are getting a new ally in their perpetual mission to make Clarkie as uncomfortable as possible in the form of the one and only Lois Lane._

_Also, rest assured that there will be no Lollie romantic entanglements in this series. They will be buds and they will be compadres but a couple...no. Just no._

_Anyway, enjoy :)_

* * *

_Summary: Set during 4x02 'Gone'. Oliver learns that Chloe's many talents also seem to include resurrection._

* * *

**In the Midst of Lies, Secrets and Conniving Heirs**

Oliver dropped his briefcase on the bed of the hotel suite he'd just booked in downtown Metropolis, following the movement by joining his discarded business bag with a sigh of bliss. He was truly exhausted, more so than he had been in a long time. Admittedly, it was his own fault since he'd insisted on finishing a month's worth of meetings and other business-related obligations in just over a week, just so that he could be in Metropolis in time for the 'trial of the century', as the press was calling it. Still, his current state of mind-numbing fatigue was absolutely worth it, since the sight of Lionel Luthor being sentenced for murder was something he wouldn't miss for the world. It was almost too good to be true, the fact that even a man who was practically more powerful than the president himself could be held accountable for his actions…which was exactly why Oliver had to see it with his own two eyes.

The news of the murder charges against Lionel had come to light over three months ago and had caused quite the scandal in the country, meaning that it took Oliver very little time to hear about it. He'd immediately made a few calls, pulled a couple of strings and cashed in a few favors which gave him some valuable insight into the whole situation. Lionel was to be charged on multiple counts involving the death of his parents and Oliver was both shocked and pleased to find out that the key material witness in the case against the once ruling king of LuthorCorp was an aspiring blonde reporter the Star City billionaire knew all too well. He figured that whatever involvement between herself and Luthor Chloe had mentioned to him before allowed her to obtain some incriminating evidence against the older man. He had to admit that he admired her courage; not many teenage girls would have the guts to go up against someone as powerful as Lionel.

Oliver had even sent her an e-mail after finding out about the extent of her involvement in the case, praising her for her own remarkable heroic tendencies, to which she'd replied that the preconceived notion that men were the only ones entitled to be the heroes and save the day was a stereotype she refused to abide to.

At least she hadn't lost her spunk.

They hadn't communicated after that particular exchange and Oliver assumed it was probably due to the fact that the FBI had placed her in the Witness Protection Program. Still, she was Chloe Sullivan and he was certain that she would find a way to get in touch with her closest friends, even if it was just so she could break the rules imposed by federal stiff-suits. He was also certain that the one person she'd get out of her way to contact was Clark Kent.

Wanting to make sure everything was still running smoothly, Oliver decided to give the farmboy-wonder a call. He didn't have his personal phone number but the Kent farm was listed in the phonebook. He punched in the digits as he lay back more comfortably, waiting for someone in the household to pick up.

"Kent farm," a female voice sounded from the other end of the line and it was definitely not the calm, soothing voice of Martha Kent.

"Hi, this is Oliver Queen. I was hoping I could speak to Clark."

"Smallville's not home right now," the woman replied, making Oliver's eyebrows rise at the nickname. "Can I take a message? Can't guarantee it'll be delivered but you can still give it a shot."

He smiled slightly at the last portion of her statement. "Well, I was just wondering if he'd heard from Chloe recently."

Dead silence followed his words for a few long moments and he was just about to check if the line disconnected when the girl spoke again.

"Who did you say you were again?" she asked, her voice noticeably warier and colder.

He frowned in confusion. "Oliver Queen," he repeated his name, "I'm a friend of Chloe's."

"You don't know, do you?"

"Know what exactly?"

"Chloe was supposed to be a witness in Lionel Luthor's trial and she was placed - "

" – in Witness Protection. Yeah, I know," he interrupted, feeling uneasy at the girl's use of past tense when referring to Chloe.

"Her safe house blew up," she stated after a momentary pause and Oliver could clearly hear a slight hitch in her voice as if she were holding back tears. "She's dead."

It was Oliver's turn to go completely silent. It took his rather fried brain longer than usual to fully process the information and when everything finally sank in, he bolted upwards from the bed.

"She's dead?" he exclaimed, both shocked and truly saddened by the news. "Wh- I mean, how – When?"

"About three months ago…just after she was brought to the safe house."

"Why didn't anyone tell me about this?"

"You mean Clark? Well, from what I've gathered, he hasn't been around much during the summer and he did get hit by lightning a few days ago, so - "

"Clark got hit by lightning?"

"Yeah, I found him butt-naked in a field on my way over here, he had some sort of amnesia afterwards too."

Oliver sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He believed this was what one might call an information overload.

"It was Lionel, wasn't it?" he spoke quietly, referring to Chloe's untimely demise.

"Of course it was," she tossed back with almost tangible hatred in her voice. "Without her testimony, he walks."

"Son of a bitch," Oliver muttered under his breath, rubbing the side of his now aching head. _So much for a fair and just world_, he thought bitterly. "Look, umm…I have some things to sort out here in Metropolis but I'll be in Smallville in…two days, I think."

"Sure. Just swing by the farm when you're here…I'm her cousin, by the way. Lois Lane."

* * *

Forty-eight hours later, Oliver was turning into the Kent farm driveway, just as he had previously told Lois. It was already dark outside and Oliver knew it probably wasn't the best time to drop for a visit but he really needed to know more about what had happened. Lionel's trial was scheduled for the following morning and he was almost certainly going to walk out of that courtroom free as a bird.

He walked up to the front door and took a deep breath before knocking. Moments later, he was welcomed by Mrs. Kent. Her eyes widened in surprise as they landed on him before her features morphed into a welcoming smile.

"Mr. Queen," she greeted politely, "This is quite the surprise."

He smiled feebly. "I guess there is no point in giving you that whole 'please call me Oliver' speech again, is there?"

"None whatsoever. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Lois didn't tell you I called, right?"

Martha's eyebrows shot upwards. "You called? Here? Well, it must have slipped Lois' mind, with everything that's happened," she offered as an explanation before her smile returned. "I suppose you're here because of Chloe then…she mentioned the two of you know each other."

"Yes, well…I heard what happened to Chloe and - "

"Did I just hear my name being spoken by Star City's most notorious playboy?" an amused voice came from behind Martha and as the latter stepped aside, Oliver's jaw promptly dropped.

There stood Chloe in all her blonde-haired, snarky glory.

"You're supposed to be dead," he stated mechanically, earning himself a light chuckle from her.

"And you're supposed to be tanning that pretty face of yours on the beaches of California," she fired back, her smirk turning into a wide grin at his dumbstruck expression.

It took him quite some time to become capable of proper speech again. "I…I…I'm so confused right now."

* * *

Some twenty minutes later, after having recovered from his state of shock, Oliver found himself seated at the dinner table, surrounded by Mr. and Mrs. Kent, their dark-haired brooding prodigy, a very joyful yet sarcastic Lois and one very undead Chloe.

Explaining the entire, complicated situation to him had been a joint effort with contributions from everyone in the group. What surprised Oliver the most in the whole bizarre tale though was the identity of Chloe's safe keeper.

"You went to _Lex _for help?" he exclaimed incredulously once Chloe had shared that particular piece of information. "As in tall, bald and creepy?"

She gave him a reprimanding look. "Well, 'tall, bald and creepy' kept me alive for three months."

He wasn't deterred by Lex's apparent, newfound nobleness. "Why did you go to him? You could've just asked me, I would've kept you safe. I've done it before."

She smiled the slightest bit at that. "No offense, Oliver, but keeping me hidden from a tycoon with murderous tendencies while faking my death isn't exactly the same thing as sharing a room with me."

Oliver was about to retort but Lois cut in before he could. "Whoa, you two 'shared a room'? You go, cuz!"

Clark rolled his eyes. "It wasn't anything like that," he said before a touch of uncertainty clouded his features. "Right?"

Chloe and Oliver glanced in each other's direction, coming to a silent agreement.

"Actually, Clark…" Chloe began sheepishly, biting down on her lower lip to complete her performance.

Boy Scout's eyes widened almost comically as the unspoken meaning behind her words sank in but he quickly shook his head. "No, no, I'm not falling for that stuff again," he warned, even jabbing a – what was probably supposed to be – condemning finger in their direction. "You always do that to me, they always do that to me!" he complained, turning toward Lois during the last portion of his objection to their idea of fun.

"Aw, poor Clarkie…are you going to ask mommy to save you from the big, bad, teasing blondes?" Lois cooed in a mocking fashion, causing everyone – aside from Clark, of course – to bite back chuckles. Even Martha and Jonathan.

"I think we should leave you kids alone to talk," Mr. Kent suggested, standing up. Martha followed his lead, giving them all a warm smile before following her husband into the living room area.

"Relax, Clark," Oliver said lightly when the couple was out of earshot, "I promise you that if anything more than PG-rated ever happens between Chloe and me, you'll be the first to know. We can even videotape it for you if you'd like."

"Stop it," the recipient of his teasing ordered but any authority the words were supposed to carry was lost in the depths of his blush.

"Or what, Smallville?" Lois challenged in amusement.

"Come on, guys, cut it out," Chloe interjected and Clark was seconds away from giving her a grateful smile when she continued. "Clark was raised to be a good boy and banish all impure thoughts, lest God would strike him down."

"God did strike him down," Lois supplied, her eyes widening in dawning realization. "He got hit by lightning in that field! Were you having impure thoughts, Clarkie?" she asked with a certifiably evil smirk just as another scenario formed in her head. "Or was it something even unholier? I do remember you being sans a stitch of clothing at the time…Smallville, were you playing with your 'best friend'?"

Chloe and Oliver burst into simultaneous fits of laughter while Clark looked absolutely mortified.

"And right in the middle of a cornfield…I've got to admit, that's kinky, even for my standards," Oliver observed after he'd finally managed to get his chuckling and snorting under control.

"I never knew you had it in you, Clark," Chloe joined in, now observing her best friend with an expression of wonder.

Clark stuttered incoherently for almost a full minute before pinning them down with his mightiest glare. "Lionel's trial is tomorrow morning. We should get some rest," he said in his most serious voice, making the other three exchange looks.

"You are absolutely right, Clark," Oliver agreed, matching the other man's tone. "Chloe needs to be on her A-game tomorrow in the courthouse."

"Oh, please," the blonde scoffed dismissively. "Even on my worst days, I'm smarter, wittier and more eloquent than all of you combined. Except for you, Lo," she added loyally, making her older cousin smile.

"It runs in the family."

"Excuse me, I run one of the largest companies in the country," Oliver protested indignantly, "I'm the one who deserves the title of 'smartest, wittiest and most eloquent'."

"Like getting the board to agree with you has anything to do with your brains," Chloe dismissed his claims. "You just use that surgically-enhanced, abnormally perfect and shiny smile of yours to charm them into doing as you say."

He gasped in feigned hurt. "I resent that. And I'll have you know that these babies," he gestured to his teeth, "are all natural."

"Yeah, right," Lois was the one dismissing now. "Excuse us if we don't believe you."

Oliver was going to retort again but Clark cut him off. "We should really head to bed."

"Eager to get some alone time with your BFF?" Lois questioned innocently, blinking along for emphasis.

Luckily for her helpless victim, the Kent's chose that moment to reappear. "It's getting late," Jonathan stated in a tone that left no room for argument. "We should all get some sleep."

"Our thoughts exactly," Oliver readily agreed before pushing his chair back and standing up. "I'm going to head out. Do you need me to drive you to your place?" he then asked Chloe, who shook her head in response.

"I told Dad I'd be staying here tonight so I can catch up with Lo," she explained, sending another big smile in her cousin's direction.

"Okay, then," Oliver acknowledged with a nod. "I guess I'll be seeing you all tomorrow. Have a good night."

* * *

Bright and early the following morning, they were all gathered in the heart of Metropolis, watching in unabashed satisfaction as Lionel was being led away by uniforms. He'd been found guilty, all thanks to Chloe and her testimony. Oliver had to admit that he was…well, proud of her in a way. She'd handled that witness stand like a pro, unflinching and with her head held high. She'd even tossed a few trademark sarcastic replies in there. After hearing what she had to say and the voicemail she'd recorded, it took the jury less than two hours to reach a verdict.

As Luthor Sr. was being shoved into a police car that would be driving him to his new home, Oliver turned to the rest of the group. And it was a big group too. Aside from the five people he'd been with the previous night at the farm, he was also in the company of Lana (whose last name was Lang, Oliver finally learned), Mr. Sullivan, Pete (who had come all the way from Wichita to show his friend some moral support) and General Sam Lane who, Oliver had to admit, was one scary dude.

"I say we go grab some drinks to celebrate," Oliver suggested, smiling widely. "My treat."

"As if any of us had any intention of paying with you around," Chloe quipped, making him roll his eyes.

"You know, I'm beginning to think you're only friends with me because of my money."

"Whatever made you think otherwise?"

Gabe grinned at his daughter's words, rejoiced that she was finally smiling and relaxed again after everything that had happened in the past few months.

"You all go ahead, kids," he said, "We oldsters are going find our own fun."

"I have such a great dad," Chloe noted, peering up at her father with affection. Mr. Sullivan gave her a smile and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head before making a shooing motion with both his hands. "Go on, get moving."

They followed his orders, finding a nice, little café a few blocks away.

"Metro Café," Chloe mused as she took her seat, glancing at the sign above the entrance. "How original."

"Hey, at least they have coffee," Lois pointed to the brighter side of things, causing Chloe's eyes to glaze over in caffeine anticipation.

"That they do."

"Your coffee addiction is slightly worrisome," Oliver told her, earning himself nods from everyone.

"She once blew me off because her dad had just bought her a new coffee maker and she had to test it," Lana reminisced in mock-reprimand.

"And she used to spend all her allowance on her java fixes," Pete supplied, "Clark and I had to buy her food so she wouldn't starve."

"My mom began tripling our coffee supplies since Chloe started coming over," Clark joined in as well.

"One time, she made one of daddy's soldiers drive all the way from the base to the nearest town because they had run out of coffee," Lois chimed in with her own anecdote.

Chloe glared at all off them. "It's not my fault coffee offers me pleasure and satisfaction like none of you can."

"I'm pretty sure I could," Oliver begged to differ, sending a teasing smirk her way.

"You may be a playboy extraordinaire, leaving a string of broken hearts in your wake and having every supermodel on the planet singing your praises, but you're no match for coffee."

He shook his head desolately. "You sure know how to bring a guy down," he spoke in a wounded tone, making Pete nod in approval.

"Oh, enough," she complained, rolling her eyes impatiently. "Your fragile male prides aren't going anywhere but if someone doesn't get me my coffee soon, your appendages _will_ be goners."

"I'm on it," Clark said quickly, practically sprinting inside to place the orders.

"You'd think a guy his size wouldn't be intimated by a tiny girl," Oliver mused as he followed Clark's movements, only to be confronted by Chloe's scowl when his eyes snapped back to her. "On second thought, maybe he's on to something."

Clark arrived with their beverages shortly after and they chatted, joked and shared stories for a couple hours, finally parting when Oliver announced he had to head to the airport. Still, Chloe hadn't let him leave until he had sworn on his Queen family jewels that he would give her an interview for her school paper since – as she had put it – it was her senior year at Smallville High and she needed to go out with a bang.


	6. In the Rinks of Friendship

_A/N: Dedicated to ica013 because she inadvertently gave me the idea for this story._

* * *

_Summary: Set during 4x11 'Unsafe'. Chloe gets a lesson in ice-skating from a very unlikely source._

* * *

**In the Rinks of Friendship**

"And that, I take it, is exactly what our young Mr. Kent wanted to hear."

And it definitely was, if the goofy little smile gracing her best friend's face was anything to go by. Truthfully, Chloe was a little skeptical at the beginning, after Clark had first told her that Alicia was released from Belle Reeve and apparently cured. But she'd done her research – with Clark hovering over her shoulder and practically gluing his nose to the screen the entire time – and read Alicia's file, signed by one of the best psychiatrists in the country and stating that she was indeed cured of her mental problems. Besides, she was happy for Clark. God knew he needed some kind of fun and distraction from the constant game of yoyo he was playing with Lana.

"I should call her," Clark said after a while, sounding slightly unsure.

She smirked at his helplessness. "That is the standard protocol for asking a girl out, yes."

"Clark Kent on a date? Now that's something I'd pay to see," an amused voice came from behind her and she rolled her eyes without even glancing towards the doorway.

"You know," she said lightly, "when I forced you to accept an interview, I didn't mean that it had to be _in person_."

She heard him chuckle as he walked further into the room. "Playing twenty questions via e-mail just seemed too formal," he explained and she twirled her chair around so she could look at him.

"It would have been less painful for you, actually," she remarked, cocking her head to the side, "Since you would have time to come up with politically correct answers. Now there's no way for you to avoid my grilling."

He smirked. "That's actually what I'm looking forward to."

"A masochist then," she concluded, nodding slowly as she pursed her lips. "Interesting."

He grinned widely before finally acknowledging Clark and shaking his hand. "So, what's this I hear about a date?" he asked curiously, trying very hard not to laugh at the resulting expression on Clark's face.

"It's nothing," the latter mumbled, making Chloe scoff.

"Yeah, right. See, there's this girl - "

"Chloe!" Clark protested at her apparent willingness to divulge his private life.

"What?" she defended, looking at him over her shoulder, "Oliver here is a notorious ladies man and, quite frankly, you could use some help."

Clark crossed his arms over his chest indignantly as Oliver smirked. "Well, I'm all about helping those in need," he said with barely contained amusement.

"It's really not necessary to - "

"Yes, it is," Chloe cut her best friend off, turning her attention to Oliver once more. "So, as I was saying, there's this girl. Do you remember that time we bumped into each other at LuthorCorp and that elevator broke? Well, the girl who was with Clark, Alicia, is the same one he wants to ask out now."

Oliver frowned. "That was almost a year ago…Please tell me it didn't take you _that_ long to bulk up the courage to ask her out."

"Oh no, he bulked up the courage," Chloe spoke before Clark even had the chance to open his mouth, "And then Alicia turned out to be a meteor-infected psycho, got obsessed with Clark and tried to kill Lana."

"Uh…so, why exactly are you asking her out again?" Oliver questioned in confusion, looking at Clark incredulously.

The other man sighed. "She was institutionalized after that and just got released. She's cured and I really like her, so…" he trailed off uncomfortably, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"Well, far be it from me to judge a guy for going after morally-challenged women, but…are you sure it's a good idea?" Oliver asked sympathetically, "I mean, mental illnesses are tricky things…you never know how or when they'll manifest and there's no guarantee they won't make a return when you least expect it."

He saw Chloe cringe slightly in her chair but Clark spoke before he could ponder on her reaction further. "I believe she's cured," he stated firmly, "And I'll never know for sure if don't take a chance, right?"

Oliver nodded. "Spoken like a true boy scout," he praised, "So, where do you plan on taking her?"

Clark shrugged. "I thought I'd take her ice-skating."

"Good choice. Lots of opportunities for holding hands and cuddling under the pretense of sharing body heat," Oliver commented and by the way Clark's eyes widened, it was obvious that those elements had not factored in his choice of location. Oliver couldn't quite decide whether the guy's innocence was endearing, hilarious or plain sad.

"But, given your history with this girl, I do think you need some back-up," he went on, raising his eyebrows, "In case she goes after an innocent bystander you make eye-contact with."

Clark frowned. "What exactly are you proposing?"

"Like I said, back-up. And I know just the people for the job."

* * *

"You just wanted to see him make a fool of himself, didn't you?" Chloe asked knowingly as she put the final touches on the knots keeping her skates in place.

Next to her on the bench, Oliver shrugged. "I actually just wanted to make sure no one dies because the Boy Scout likes 'em crazy. Seeing him trip all over himself and landing on his ass is simply an added bonus."

She smiled slightly before biting her lip. "And how would you react if you saw _me_ land on my ass?" she asked somewhat hesitantly and sighed when he gave her a questioning look. "I've never gone ice-skating before," she admitted, looking a little embarrassed.

He grinned at her antics. "Well, then it's a good thing you have an excellent teacher," he replied easily, standing up and offering her his hand. She took it and got on her own two feet slowly, testing her equilibrium. She took it as a good sign that she didn't topple over immediately.

They slowly made their way to the ice. Clark and Alicia were already there but paid no attention to them, which was probably a good thing.

Oliver stepped on the slippery surface first and turned around so they could be face to face, once again extending his hands to her. She accepted the support gladly, taking an extremely cautious step forward. Then she promptly slipped.

She let out a small, startled yelp as she flew forwards but he caught her readily, steadying her when she landed face-first into his chest.

"Sorry," she mumbled, her voice muffled as her mouth was partially pressed against his solar plexus. "I'm not usually this clumsy."

"No worries, you are the most gracious person I've ever met," he reassured with a hint of mocking and she lifted her head to glare at him. He grinned in response.

"Come on," he said as he slowly eased her away from him, holding her hands firmly and starting to glide backwards at a slow pace, pulling her along.

"You need to relax," he instructed, noting her rigid stance and feeling her fingers squeeze his far too tightly. "Try not to think about it. If you're focusing too hard on _not_ falling, then that's exactly what you'll do."

"That's not comforting," she muttered irritably, staring at her feet in concentration, "At all."

"Oh come on, where's that Sullivan, I-can-conquer-the-world spirit?" he teased good-naturedly but she was still tense.

"It decided to take a vacation."

"Work with me here, Chloe. Look, I promise I won't let you dive head-first into the ice and in the unlikely event of that happening despite my best efforts, I promise I'll break your fall."

That seemed to make her unclench the tiniest bit and she finally lifted her eyes from the ground to look at him. "Always playing the hero," she commented, starting to shake her head but stopping when she realized the slightest movement might cause her to lose her balance.

"It's all about impressing the ladies," he said, his lips forming into a smirk.

"So, that's your goal in life?" she countered, her fear taking second place to her inner reporter, "To have as many women as possible drool over you?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it's my number one priority, but it's definitely in the top five," he replied easily, realizing that a bit of verbal sparring was the perfect distraction from her fear of falling.

"So what _is _your number one priority?"

"Saving the world, of course."

"So you've told me," she conceded, remembering the conversation they'd had in that motel room over a year ago, "Number two?"

"Making sure my company remains as strong as it used to be when my father was CEO," he answered truthfully, if not a little impulsively. Her eyes widened at his honesty, wondering why he was being so open with her. By the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly, he was obviously asking himself the same thing.

"From what I hear, you're doing a great job with it," she said after a moment, trying to diffuse the awkward silence.

He looked surprised by her words for a second before smiling again. "Been doing research on me, have you?"

"It would be remiss of me not to," she countered unrepentantly, even raising her chin the slightest bit in defiance. "How else would I know what questions to ask you during the interview?"

He shrugged. "You could just…vibe it."

Her look told him she was not amused by his suggestion. "I aspire to be a serious journalist," she stated with determination.

"Jeez, you really do take this stuff seriously," he remarked, finding it in equal parts admirable and funny. Admirable because her commitment to her future career was certainly remarkable and funny because she was simply too adorable when she got all serious about it.

"Not any less serious than you take your CEO duties, apparently."

"I may take them very seriously now but when I was your age…" he chuckled lightly at the memory, shaking his head in self-reprimand. "Well, let's just say that I was more into partying and causing trouble back then."

"And how exactly is that different from what you're doing now?" she challenged, arching an eyebrow. "From what my exhaustive _research_ has taught me, you still manage to ensure half your hometown's clubs' profit all by yourself."

"Just trying to help the economy," he responded airily, making her roll her eyes.

"All part of saving the world, right?"

"Exactly," he declared with a great deal of pride as he gave her what could only be described as a Cheshire cat grin. Her brows scrunched in confusion at his expression, idly wondering what he was up to, before he let go of her hands and eased himself out of reach.

"_What are you doing_?" she exclaimed bewilderedly, still gliding over the smooth surface of the ice. She had gained some momentum from having him drag her across the rink so she kept moving forward, not having a clue on how to stop.

He laughed cheerfully as he kept moving away from her, forcing her to keep going in a desperate attempt to get something to hold onto again. "You're doing great," he yelled to be heard over the sounds of the other skaters, positively beaming with delight. She, on the other hand, was somewhat panicking.

"Get back here!" she yelled back, flailing her arms around frantically in an effort to remain vertical.

"Make me!" he tossed in amusement, thoroughly enjoying her flustered state.

"When I get my hands on you…" she growled, glaring at him with all her might. It only made him laugh harder.

He forced her to chase him for another few minutes – which felt like an eternity of gut-wrenching fear to her – before finally taking pity on her and deciding to end her misery. He skidded to a halt and waited for her to make her way to him. Or bump into him in this case.

She collided with his chest for the second time since they'd gotten there and he stopped her with expertise again, only this time, she didn't seem as grateful as before. In fact, she appeared to be furious.

"You twisted, sadistic…sadist!" she accused heatedly, punching him in the chest with as much force as she could manage. He snorted derisively at her actions, catching her wrists and effectively putting an end to her attack.

"How else would you have learned?" he patronized, making her glare intensify. He sighed in defeat. "Will you forgive me if I buy you coffee?"

"I want hot chocolate," she grumbled, making him smile at her pout.

"Hot chocolate it is," he agreed, slowly guiding her towards the rink's exit. As they made their way out, she cast a glance in Clark and Alicia's direction, making sure no blood was being spilled. The two of them seemed to be enjoying themselves, as Alicia was apparently teaching_Clark_ how to ice-skate. Chloe felt the tiniest pang of jealousy as she saw the happy expression on her best friend's face.

Oliver caught the look on her face and quickly made the deductions on what had caused it but decided against commenting on it right away.

The two blondes made their way to the small cafeteria that offered a clear view of the rink below, settling on an unoccupied bench next to the glass wall.

"There you go," Oliver said as he handed her a steaming mug of her requested beverage which she accepted with a smile.

"Thanks," she expressed her gratitude as her fingers curled around the mug.

He sat next to her, eyeing her down curiously. She caught his look. "What?" she asked defensively, wondering if she had whipped cream smeared all over her face or something.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally spoke, "And feel free to tell me that I'm out of line for asking personal questions if you don't want to answer."

Now she seemed confused. "Sure…"

"You and Clark," he began, "You've told me before that you guys were a thing but not really a thing and it just sounded like a really complicated, convoluted situation but…you look like you still have some feelings for him…"

"So what's your question?"

"My question is…why? I mean, what do you see in that guy? Sure, he's a very nice, polite farm boy but…what is it about him that keeps the great Chloe Sullivan pining after him?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"I'm…not sure I follow," she said after a moment of silence.

"See, you're this ambitious, smart, quick-witted girl with big dreams and the determination and talent to make them happen and he's just…Clark. I guess I just can't figure out why you're so…"

"Hung up on him?" she supplied with a small, albeit sad smile. He nodded, making her take a deep breath. "I don't know…he's just…he deserves more credit than you give him. He may be this sweet, innocent, fumbling farm boy on the surface but…he's a genuinely good person. Like, good to a fault. He sees the best in everyone, he's all about forgiveness and second chances and…well, he saved my life more times than I can count."

"Really? Boy Scout?"

She chuckled lightly at his choice of nickname before continuing. "Yeah," she confirmed, shrugging slightly. "I guess I'm just a sucker for the heroic type. And I…I've had a thing for him since…well, forever."

"Ah, the first love," Oliver ventured knowingly, "Always hard to let go."

She cocked her head to the side. "Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

He sighed deeply. "Tess Mercer," he enunciated the name with a hint of regret. "First girl that ever mattered to me."

"Who is she?"

Oliver licked his lips before responding. "We umm…well, we got off that island together..."

Chloe's eyes widened in understanding. "Oh."

He chuckled dryly. "We were together for a few months before I…before I decided to mess it up. She really didn't have it in her to forgive me…which was actually the whole point of my plan, as crazy as that sounds."

Chloe was silent for a few moments, studying him with pursed lips. "I never knew you had a sensitive side," she commented lightly, causing his eyes to narrow.

"Oh, I see how it is…when a girl talks about her feelings, that's totally normal but when I guy does it, he's got a 'sensitive side'. Talk about double standards."

She raised her hands in surrender. "Hey, I'm not judging. God knows I've had my fair share of 'let's talk about our feelings' conversations with Clark," she told him reassuringly. "Although, this would make for some very good material for my article… 'Oliver Queen's sensitive side'," she mused, pondering the title.

"Very funny," he deadpanned, even though he knew she would never actually publish that kind of story. He had a feeling she had far too much respect for her friends – however low on the friend-scale – to ever pull a stint like that.

"I know," she agreed in her most serious voice, "My sense of humor is absolutely marvelous."

He snorted rather loudly, shaking his head all the while. "Simply hilarious."

She just beamed with pride.

They chatted – or rather threw jabs at each other – for a while afterwards, forsaking the subject of their unsuccessful love lives for some more light-hearted ones.

About half an hour passed before Oliver noticed that the couple they were supposed to babysit were making their way up to the cafeteria.

"I think it's time we make ourselves scarce," he whispered in Chloe's ear, titling his head in Clark and Alicia's direction.

She nodded in agreement. "Yeah. I think it's safe to assume her psychotic tendencies are not making an appearance tonight. Let's head out."

They did just that, making sure Alicia didn't spot them as they sneaked towards the exit.

"So, where to next?" he asked once they were outside.

"I was thinking of heading back to the Torch, I have a few articles I need to finish," she replied, turning sideways to look at him. "You can come if you want, see what the life of an _actual _reporter looks like."

He nodded solemnly. "All in the name of research," he agreed, leading her to his car and driving off in the direction of Smallville High.


	7. In the Valley of the Queens

_A/N: This was something I simply had to write since 'Spirit' is one of my dearest Smallville episodes ever. It actually has nothing to do with the prom aspect of it (my views on the subject are actually very similar to Chloe's); it's just because a) Lifehouse was playing and b) there is nothing that can top the moment when Clark - while possessed by Dawn - snatches Chloe's crown and goes 'the crown's mine, bitch!'. You know, people have often said that Tom Welling can't act and stuff of that variety but he still managed to deliver that line with a straight face. I say he deserves some respect._

_But anyway, enjoy :)_

* * *

_Summary: Set during 4x18 'Spirit'. Oliver invites himself to Chloe's prom._

* * *

**In the Valley of the Queens**

Oliver was fighting the urge to laugh to the point it made his insides hurt.

"So, let me get this straight," he began after a slight pause during which he'd worked on maintaining his composure, "_You_ have been nominated for prom queen?"

He was on the phone with Chloe and currently in the process of hearing her tirade about how her generation seemed unable to grasp the concept of boycott. She had finally found a place in her paper to 'squeeze his interview in' and had sent him a copy. He'd enjoyed reading her take on his 'infamous playboy ways' and the way she'd weaved her trademark sarcasm throughout the article while putting an emphasis on the endless display of arm candy he paraded around. It took someone who knew Chloe to realize those portions were actually jabs at his manhood suggesting he was overcompensating in an attempt to hide the deep, dark secrets he stored in the far corners of his proverbial sexual closet. Still, she'd also dedicated an entire paragraph to his accomplishments as a CEO, stating that his ability to run such a large company when he was practically still in diapers was certainly remarkable. He had to admit that it was actually one of the most flattering pieces ever written on him. He couldn't quite decide whether it was sad or amusing that such a piece was published in a high school paper smack in the middle of nowhere.

It wasn't the article on him that had led to his current situation though. While sifting through the rest of the paper, he'd come across Chloe's entertaining bashing of the 'prom queen tradition' and had had quite the smile on his face the whole way through his reading. Trust Chloe to rebel against a decade long tradition.

He'd called her after having read the Torch from front to back, discussing the way she'd so kindly described him in her article before making a comment about her piece on prom. That was how it started.

"Yes!" she exclaimed irritably, "Can you believe it? I mean, who in their right mind would take my obvious disdain towards this abomination as an invitation to nominate me?"

"Well, maybe that's the point," he tried to explain Smallville High's apparent idiocy, "By nominating you, they're making a statement that they're siding with your views on the whole thing."

"That's what Clark said too," she grumbled, obviously still displeased, "It's not like I'm going to win that piece of plastic disgrace anyway, so I think I'm safe."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure," he taunted, "I think you'll definitely win. You know how teenagers are these days, they'll do anything just to be different and rise against the oppression…free themselves from the shackles of tradition…"

"Okay, a) we're in the middle of Kansas, they're not that evolved yet, b) they're too scared of Dawn _not_ to vote for her and c) you're not funny," she retorted with aggravation which Oliver naturally took as an invitation to keep pushing her buttons.

"I'm actually hilarious, you just won't admit it. Who's Dawn?"

"Blonde airhead."

He smirked. "You're a blonde."

He could practically _hear_ her fuming. "So are you," she tossed back, making his smirk widen.

"The rule only applies to women."

"You're lucky you're halfway across the country right now because otherwise you'd be having an extremely heavy paper holder flying to your sexist head."

He closed his eyes to fully savor her irritation. "It wouldn't be a stereotype for no reason. Besides, you know what they say…there is truth in every joke."

"There's also an exception to every rule."

"Not _every_ rule."

"Oh, you mean like the one that says every rich, silver spoon fed kid is a spoiled brat? I'd definitely have to agree on that one."

"And I'm the narrow-minded one in this conversation."

"I wasn't being narrow-minded. I was simply stating a fact."

"So was I."

"I beg to differ."

"Enlighten me."

"I am living proof that your theory is incorrect. Your 'fact' is therefore untrue."

"The same applies to me and _your_ theory."

"Again, I have to disagree. You live in a penthouse, splurge on expensive, custom made cars, toss hundred dollar bills around like confetti - "

"I'm coming to your prom."

" – spend more money on designer clothes than…wait, _what_?"

"I'm coming to your prom," he repeated calmly, his previous smirk turning into a grin.

"No you're not!"

"Yes, yes I am," he countered, "I just have to be there and see you being crowned as the ruling queen of Cornfield High."

"Don't you dare," she threatened, in equal parts frustrated and panicky.

"Nothing you can do about it," he informed her, already scrolling through the contacts of his other cellphone for his pilot's number. "I'm coming whether you like it or not."

"Oliver…"

"Got to go. See you, Sullivan."

"Oliver!"

He hung up before she could get another word in.

* * *

Chloe sighed wistfully as she watched Lana enter the room and make her way over to Clark.

"Hey," Lois said as she made her way over to her cousin's table and sat next to the blonde. "You know, a year from now, this is all going to feel like a lifetime ago."

The words made Chloe smile sadly. "That's funny, 'cause it feels like just yesterday when he deserted that nervous freshman on the dance floor."

"You're headed for Metropolis," Lois told her, trying to get through her thick skull. "You're destined to be a big shot reporter for the Daily Planet. Do you really picture _Clark Kent_ being able to keep up with you?"

Chloe was silent for a moment, debating on what to say. There was a side of Clark Lois didn't know about, that no one really knew about and while it made Chloe see him in a different light, it also made her admire him more than before.

"You know Lois, I think Clark might have a lot more to offer than you realize," she finally settled on the most accurate and least revealing phrasing.

Lois scoffed at the idea. "I wouldn't bet on it."

Chloe simply smiled again as she cast yet another glance to the couple on the dance floor.

"No way, I missed the coronation?"

Chloe's eyes drifted shut in mortification. With everything that had happened with Dawn's spirit and the possessions, she'd forgotten all about Oliver's promise to drop by.

"Please tell me he's just a voice in my head," she begged Lois but her cousin ignored her.

"Queen?" the brunette asked in surprise as she turned slightly in her seat to look at the man standing behind them. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see Her Highness, of course," he responded easily before looking Lois up and down with a frown. "Why are you wearing pink?" he asked warily.

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't exactly have a say in the matter. I was possessed," she added when he raised a confused brow.

"I can't really tell if you're joking or not."

"I'm not. Chloe was possessed too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. See, there's…well, _was_ this girl Dawn - "

"Oh, the blonde airhead?"

"Yeah, her. She had this car accident, ended up in a coma but since she crashed in a field full of meteor rocks, her spirit got the ability to possess other people."

Oliver gaped at her. "This town is a really unsettling place," he finally found his voice after having digested the information.

"Why did you come then?" Chloe muttered grumpily.

"To be your humble servant, Your Majesty," he declared in his most serious, worshiping tone of voice and she couldn't help but smile.

By her side, Lois was cackling with laughter. "You're a true gem, Queen," she told him as she rose from her chair and delivered a friendly punch to his shoulder. "I'll leave you two to do whatever it is that you guys do and I'm going over to the buffet table to spike that punch, show these kids what prom night is really about," she informed them of her new mission before heading away.

"Just when you think she's becoming a lady," Oliver mused before taking the seat she'd just vacated.

"Why so glum?" he asked Chloe who was just staring at her hands, not seeming to enjoy her newfound title or the party happening around her.

She shrugged, twisting her fingers for a little while more before finally craning her head sideways to look at him. "I'm just…I guess getting possessed and almost burning the school down kind of put a damper on my night."

His eyebrows shot upwards. "You almost set the school on fire? That's no way to show appreciation for your devoted subjects."

"Will you stop with the royal jokes?"

"Never," he replied solemnly, "But come on, you have got to be enjoying this on some level."

"Not really," she maintained, her eyes drifting to the dance floor on their own. Oliver caught the movement and shifted his gaze as well, only to be greeted with the sight of Clark and Lana slow dancing under all the bright, shiny lights.

He clucked his tongue. "Why do I get the feeling this is more about Boy Scout and Lana getting cozy than you getting possessed?"

"That obvious, huh?" she questioned rhetorically, already knowing she was pathetically transparent. She saw him nod from the corner of her eye. "It's not that I'm not…over him, it's just…sometimes I wonder, you know? What if…I don't even know," she let out exasperatedly, her eyes going to the ceiling.

"Well, it's been my experience that dwelling on the past and the 'what ifs' will never do you any good. If Clark hasn't seen the proverbial light by now, I don't think he ever will. And it's his loss. Soon, you'll be this famous reporter for one of the biggest papers in the country and men will be tripping all over themselves to get your attention."

She scoffed at the ridiculousness of that scenario. "I doubt it. Unless they're meteor infected psychopaths, of course."

"Still men."

She cocked her head to the side as a soft smile appeared on her lips. "You sure know how to cheer a girl up."

"Just part of - "

"Don't," she warned, knowing he was about to make another – not in the least amusing – joke about being her eternal slave.

"Why can't you just let me have my fun?" he asked petulantly, making her bite her lip. She had a witty retort on the tip of her tongue but saying it out loud would mean she would give into his teasing…

_Oh, screw it_, she thought, finally accepting defeat. "If I become lenient with my subjects, how will they ever respect me?"

He looked surprised for a moment before grinning like a kid in a candy store. "In that case, milady," he said graciously as he got to his feet and extended his hand to her, "May I have the chance to soften your heart by offering you a dance?"

She looked at his hand as if it was going to bite her. "I'm not dancing with you."

"Oh come on, it's your prom," he protested, dropping all pretenses of chivalry, "And you're the queen. You have to dance."

"I don't think so."

"Okay, I know I'm no boy scout but unlike my favorite prude, I can guarantee that I won't step on your toes," he told her as his hand still hovered in the air expectantly.

"Oliver, I really don't - "

"I see I'll have to use more extreme methods of convincing," he concluded as he took a deep breath. "I will have to resort to begging."

Her eyes widened in dread as he slowly started to bend his knees and his upper body began to descend lower and lower…

"You won't," she let out in mortification as she realized he was quite literally about to kneel at her feet.

"I most certainly will," he retorted, still lowering himself in slow motion. "Last chance," he taunted and she reacted instinctively.

"Okay! I'll dance with you," she said hastily before he could get a chance to embarrass her for life. He grinned again at his victory, straightening to his full height and extending his hand once more.

She accepted it this time and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. Since Lifehouse was still playing one of their slow songs, she placed her hands on his shoulders as he rested his on her waist before they began moving in unhurried circles.

"See, this isn't so bad," he spoke after a while, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Speak for yourself," she muttered irritably, refusing to enjoy a second of it on mere principle.

He smiled slightly at her denial, certain that she was secretly enjoying it because she kept unconsciously swaying to the song's beat without any assistance from him.

"What must I do to prove my devotion to you?" he wondered in a wounded tone, causing one of her eyebrows to arch.

"What, you're a poet now too, tossing bad rhymes around?"

"I'm anything you want me to be, my queen," he replied gravely, not missing a beat and making her sigh in exasperation.

"How about you be quiet?"

"Anything _but_ that," he amended his previous statement with a grin.

"Figures."

The romantic tune they were dancing to came to a halt and was soon replaced by a more fast-paced beat, making a far too mischievous gleam light up Oliver's eyes. Chloe barely had the time to send a quick prayer to the heavens before he snatched her hand and twirled her around without mercy.

"Oliver!" she exclaimed bewilderedly as he dipped her body down before straightening her up again.

"Problem, Sullivan?" he questioned in amusement as he spun her away from his body.

"Yes!"

"Too bad," he said unrepentantly and kept moving them around the dance floor, twirling, spinning and forcing her to perform rather complex dance moves all the while. At some point, people actually started moving out of their way and then – to Chloe's eternal mortification – began clapping , whistling and cheering them on. The worst part was, she was actually starting to enjoy it.

"Having fun yet?" he asked knowingly as he secured an arm around her waist, plastered their chests together while moving backwards, making her toes glide over the floor. She let out a squeal at the movement before promptly screaming in a mixture of excitement and dread when he straightened up and began spinning, causing her legs to fly upwards and draw circles in mid-air.

"Fine, you win!" she caved desperately as she clung to his shoulders for anchoring, idly wondering how far across the room she would fly if he suddenly let go of her.

He grinned in victory before setting her on her feet. Chloe thought it was over but she should have known better because the next words coming out of his mouth were "Let's try the Dirty Dancing move."

She gaped in horror. "Please, _please_ tell me you're not thinking of the move I think you're thinking of."

His eyebrows drew together. "That was one extremely convoluted statement but yes, I think I'm thinking of the move you think I'm thinking of."

The sheer horror on her face only intensified. "No way," she refused to even consider the idea, shaking her head along, as if that was going to deter him.

"Come on, it'll be fun," he insisted, sounding unnecessarily giddy at the prospect of recreating the movie's famous scene.

"Oh, so you think that dropping me in the middle of the school and having my head crack open will be _fun_?"

"I _promise_ I won't drop you," he swore, still grinning like the biggest of idiots. Chloe stared up at him with incredulity, refusing to give into his ridiculous ideas. But no matter how absurd – and possibly suicidal – he seemed to be, there was still a part of her that was nudging her to accept, a little voice telling her it would be a thrilling experience.

_Live a little, Sullivan_, it said temptingly. _When else are you ever going to get the chance to do it again?_

She bit her lip. "I can't run in these heels," she spoke in one last attempt to shut both him and the voice in her head up.

He waved her argument off instantly. "Just take them off."

She deliberated, bit her lip some more, fought a battle of wills with herself one last time before bending down and undoing the straps on her sandals. She proceeded to toss them to the side as Oliver clapped his hands in merriment and yelled loudly enough for the entire room to hear.

"Stand aside, folks," he ordered as he took a few steps backwards, "The queen is coming through!"

She moved backwards as well, taking a deep breath and briefly wondering if she had finally lost her mind before setting her feet into motion. She ran as fast as she could towards his outstretched hands, instinctively closing her eyes just before impact.

For one dreadful second, she thought he wasn't going to catch her and that she would end up diving headfirst into the ground which she hoped would then open to swallow her whole because she would never be able to live with the embarrassment and what the hell had she been thinking –

His hands caught her readily and she felt herself being propelled upwards. The next moment, there was nothing but air and the steady pressure of his fingers on her waist beneath her. She finally dared to open her eyes and gasped.

She was basically six feet above the ground, just sort of suspended in the air. And it felt amazing.

"Oh my God!" she let out excitedly, almost starting to giggle.

The crowd around them broke into a round of applause, spiced up here and there with some loud whistles of Lois' making.

A few moments passed before Oliver carefully lowered her to the ground, now looking positively smug. "Tell me again just how much you are_not_ enjoying this," he challenged, earning himself a rather meek shove in the chest.

"Shut up," she retorted, still smiling happily.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Is that an order, my liege?"

She rolled her eyes at him good-naturedly, not even bothering to answer. Instead, she gave him a warm smile. "Thanks for making this night suck less."

"Anything for my - " he began but quickly backtracked at her warning look, raising his hands in surrender. "It was my pleasure."

The band chose that moment to take a break. As they went off stage with a promise to be back in a minute, Lois took advantage of their now more quiet surroundings. "Long live the Queen!" she shouted from the top of her lungs, causing Chloe's eyes to widen in both panic and amusement as her entire generation joined in. Oliver was, naturally, not far behind.

He took a few steps away from her, walking backwards as he waved his hands in the air, apparently taking it upon himself to direct the loud choruses of 'long live the queen' that were erupting from everywhere around her.

She hid her face with her hands for a moment, only to lower them and grin a few seconds later. She was basically standing in the middle of the school, barefoot and with her hair sticking out at odd angles, in the lead role of the most absurd scenario she could ever imagine and yet she couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun.


	8. In the Wake of Devastation

_Summary: Set during Commencement/Arrival 4x22/5x01 . Oliver gets more than he bargained for when he attends Chloe's high school graduation._

* * *

**In the Wake of Devastation**

Chloe stood in line impatiently as she waited for her name to be announced so she could climb on that podium and collect her reward for having endured her four-year sentence in every teenager's equivalent of Alcatraz. She had to admit that she was really excited about leaving Smallville behind, finally making it back to Metropolis and, with some luck, finding her way into the Daily Planet's bullpen. Her excitement was – against her better judgment – further accentuated by her cousin and a certain, highly annoying billionaire who were both cheering her on from the audience. They had even made her a big sign saying 'Go, Chloe!' and were waving it around restlessly.

_Idiots_, she thought fondly. After all, she couldn't be truly irritated with them; they were her self-proclaimed number one fans.

Still, she couldn't help but worry about Lana. Her friend hadn't shown to pick up her diploma and Chloe had a feeling something had to have gone wrong. As she had previously told Clark, Lana didn't have as much as a tardy; she wouldn't miss her high school graduation.

She watched as Clark climbed on the podium and picked up his own diploma before pausing and glancing around, undoubtedly looking for Lana. He was probably even more worried about her than she was.

Her musings were interrupted by a sudden blaring of sirens as military tanks packed with soldiers drove right in the middle of the ceremony.

"Attention! Remain calm!" she heard one of the soldiers speak. "By order of the Federal Emergency Decree: all non-essential personnel should evacuate the area within a fifty mile radius. In approximately three hours, a meteor shower is predicted to hit Smallville!"

Chloe gasped along with the rest of the crowd. Everyone was suddenly on their feet, some running, some screaming and she couldn't help but wonder what it felt like for those who had been there during the first meteor shower to see history repeating itself. She also couldn't help but wonder what had caused said repeat to happen. There had to be something in Smallville, she concluded, something that made extraterrestrial debris stick to the town like bees to honey.

She quickly made her way to where Lois, Oliver and the Kent's were and was almost instantly joined by Clark.

"I am getting you and Lois out of here," Oliver declared as soon as she was close enough to hear him.

"I have my own car," she protested, causing him to roll his eyes.

"Mine is faster," he countered with determination, making her cross her arms over her chest in defiance.

"I love my car and I will not abandon it here to get smashed by some giant rock from outer space."

"I'll buy you a new one."

"You can't just buy me a new one, I am attached to _this_ one! I could never love an imposter the way I - "

"Priorities, cuz!" Lois interjected loudly. "Priorities!"

"Fine," Chloe grumbled her consent. "We'll get out in your big, shiny, soulless Ferrari. Happy now?"

"Extremely," he deadpanned, "We'll swing by your house so you can get some clothes and anything else you might need. Is your dad home?"

She shook her head. "No, he's in Metropolis for a job interview…that's why he had to miss my graduation."

"It's probably a good thing he did, given how it's turned out," Oliver commented before turning to the Kent's. "Do you need a ride? I'm pretty sure we can't all fit in my car but I can have another one brought for you in no time," he offered, earning himself a strained smile for Mrs. Kent.

"Thank you Oliver, but we can manage just fine with our truck," she reassured before discreetly exchanging a look with her husband and son.

Oliver nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing with the Kent's. He was pretty sure Mr. Kent would refuse the offer on mere principle if nothing else. "Okay but if you need anything else, let me know."

"We will," Martha assured once more before taking her husband's hand and motioning for Clark to follow them.

"See you later," Clark said with as much bravado as he could muster, giving them a forced smile before joining his parents.

"Alright, let's go," Oliver ordered to the two who had remained at his side, satisfied that he wasn't panicking in the slightest. Maintaining his cool in dangerous situations was a skill he'd perfected over the years and it was definitely one he needed if he intended to keep playing his hometown's resident vigilante. He'd recently gone out for his first patrol and while it hadn't gone as well as he thought it would (apparently, the criminals of Star City were far more skilled than the PD gave them credit for) but he still hadn't frozen or panicked once and the hold on his bow hadn't faltered for a second. He liked to think it was a good sign.

"I'd really like to know what caused the meteor shower this time," Chloe spoke, breaking him out of his memories from his first patrol. He smirked slightly.

"No amount of danger is ever going to put the brakes on your curiosity, is it?" he observed with a hint of underlining teasing and received a smack on the shoulder for his efforts.

"What kind of reporter would I be if I let a little danger keep me down?"

* * *

More than an hour later, they were on their way out of Smallville and – naturally – stuck in the endless line of cars filled with people eager to flee the premises as soon as possible…kind of like they were.

Oliver sighed as he listened to Lois' never-ending speech from the backseat. _So much for the general's daughter not panicking_, he thought wryly before shifting his gaze to Chloe who was sitting next to him. She was just finishing her phone conversation with Lana and the frown on her face, as she disconnected the call, didn't go unnoticed by Oliver.

"Something wrong?" he asked cautiously, making Chloe bite her lower lip.

"I think she's in trouble," Chloe said slowly, her voice laced with worry. "She's at the Luthor mansion, I heard Lex's voice in the background…I'm sure of it."

"Why would she be at the mansion when she's supposed to evacuate?" Lois wondered, finally having ended her tirade.

"I don't know but I can't leave her there," Chloe spoke with determination. "The mansion is really close by, I'll go get her and - "

"Whoa, wait a second," Oliver interrupted her, causing her head to snap sideways as she met his gaze. "All the roads back to Smallville are blocked and I'm pretty sure that guy," he pointed to the young soldier guarding the barricade, "won't let you through no matter how much you beg."

"I am not going to abandon her," Chloe retorted firmly. "I'll just have to find my way around that soldier."

Her hand moved to the door's handle but Oliver caught her wrist before she could exit the car. "It's too dangerous to go back, Chloe."

"She's my friend, Oliver," she said angrily, pulling her hand out of his grasp, "Practically my family. I am not just going to sit here and trust_Lex_ to keep her safe."

Oliver sighed, knowing she made a valid point. He would have done the same thing. Still…

"Fine, I'm coming with you then."

"No, you're staying here. Someone has to remain in the car."

"What do you mean someone has - "

"Lo, go!" Chloe ordered and before Oliver could blink, Lois jumped out of the car and marched up to the soldier at the barricade with an air of military authority. Chloe was gone in an instant too, heading across the field to the mansion and leaving Oliver alone before he had even realized what was happening.

"Great," he mumbled as he leaned back against his seat and watched Lois slowly but surely bringing a man in full-body armor to the brink of tears in the distance.

* * *

Chloe still hadn't come back when the first meteorite hit. Oliver watched in both terror and fascination as the flaming rock crashed to a field on their right, soon to be followed by more spatial debris than he could count. He was on his feet in an instant, dragging Lois with him. Everyone had abandoned their cars, running as fast as they possibly could as the shower destroyed roads and set the landscape around them on fire.

As he ran away with Lois at his heels, he couldn't stop worrying about Chloe. Coming to a decision, he whirled around and grabbed Lois by the shoulders.

"I'm going back for Chloe!" he yelled to be heard over all the commotion. "You make sure you stay alive, okay? I'm not explaining to Chloe how I let her favorite cousin die."

Lois seemed like she was about to insist she come along but a loud explosion nearby cut off anything she may have wanted to say.

"Go!" Oliver ordered once more, even giving her a slight shove to finally get her to move. She obeyed this time and turned around, merging with the rest of the bewildered crowd.

Now alone, Oliver started running back to his car only to find a flaming pile of plastic and metal in its place.

_Damn, that was my favorite car_, he thought grimly before taking off across the same field Chloe had, jumping over a few craters in the process.

The Luthor mansion wasn't hard to miss and, having spent quite a few hours there when he was a child, he knew his way around the place. He almost expected to have some guards stop him at the entrance but found the gates deserted. He almost believed Lex had let them go and evacuate but, knowing his old schoolmate, he was pretty sure the bodyguards had disregarded their loyalty to the Luthor heir in favor of saving their own lives.

Oliver searched every inch of the ground floor before making his way upstairs and to Lex's home office. He found the place ransacked but other than that, the place was completely empty. No Chloe, no Lana and no Lex. His eyes caught a glimpse of a massive metal door, ripped right off its hinges lying on the floor but before he could ponder on what kind of force could have caused such damage, the entire house shook violently and Oliver had to duck to the side in order to avoid being hit by the chandelier the quake had sent flying to the floor.

* * *

Chloe drifted in and out of sleep, unable to let her mind relax completely. With everything that had happened with the meteor shower, that ice palace in the Arctic and Clark telling her about his extraterrestrial origins, who could blame her for being a little restless?

When she'd discovered that her best friend was just a bit more super than the rest of them, she could never have even imagined just how super he really was. She still found it somewhat hard to believe she was now officially best buds with an alien…she always thought aliens would be a little more green and bigheaded than her favorite farm boy.

Still, she felt honored to be let in on his secret. She would protect it with her life and help him along as much as she could because she knew he was destined to do great things. She could even forget she'd almost gotten frostbite because of his wonky heritage. At least he'd gotten her to a hospital before she'd turned into a popsicle…even if said hospital was in the wastelands of the Yukon.

She felt a sudden presence at her side that brought her out of her slumber. "Clark?" she mumbled instinctively, turning to get a look at her visitor. She froze when she saw Lex standing there instead of Clark.

"Now, how could Clark possibly be here?" Lex asked flatly, his eyes hard. "We're in the middle of the Yukon."

Chloe fumbled for a response, not having a clue as to how to lie her way out of this one. She was usually quite good at this sort of thing but she needed her brain to be on its best A game for it and, right now, she was still a little groggy.

Luckily for her, there seemed to be a certain white knight at her beck and call at all times.

"Since Clark is one of her closest friends, I don't see why she wouldn't rather wish him to be here instead of you," Oliver spoke coldly as he crossed the threshold of her hospital room. "It's a natural human reaction. Of course, given your history of successful relationships of any kind, I can understand why it can be a difficult concept for you to grasp."

Lex's jaw twitched almost imperceptibly before he turned to face the latest arrival to the party. "Queen," he greeted coolly, raising an eyebrow, "I have to say this is quite the surprise."

Oliver shrugged indifferently. "Clark asked me to bring Chloe home."

"I was actually here to do the same thing," Lex responded, keeping his façade of nonchalance.

"Now, that's really touching, Lex," Oliver retorted calmly as he glared at the other man, "Making sure your friends get home safe. If you're not careful, people might think you're starting to melt."

He smirked mockingly before speaking again. "Since we go way back, I'll do you a favor and not mention this to anyone. I think you can find your way out."

Both men stared each other down for quite some time afterwards, making Chloe slide just a little bit further under her sheets. It was like a billionaire, testosterone nuclear explosion taking place right next to her. It was slightly unsettling…and sort of amusing as well.

Finally, Lex ended the battle of wills and offered the blondes a fake smile. "See you back in Smallville, Chloe," he bid his goodbyes while still looking Oliver square in the eye before heading out of the room. Oliver promptly slammed the door shut behind him.

"Thank you," Chloe whispered when he turned around to face her. He smiled slightly in response.

"Well, you're my favorite damsel in distress," he replied in a light tone as he moved to stand closer to her bedside. "You make me log in more hero hours than anyone else."

She raised an eyebrow. "Hero? Don't you mean _ego_?"

He cocked his head from one side to the other. "That's one way of putting it."

She smiled back for a second before her face turned serious again. "Look, Oliver - "

"You don't have to explain," he interrupted, raising a hand to halt her speech. "I have no idea how you got here and, while I'm actually curious as to how it happened, I'm pretty certain you're not going to tell me the truth. Besides, that town of yours is a really strange place...so I guess that teleportation wouldn't be that much of a stretch for its mojo," he said lightly, before offering her a small smile. "I'm just glad you're okay," he added earnestly to which she rolled her eyes.

"Glad to know you actually care."

He snorted at her unwavering snark. "You know, I think I'm starting to consider you as an actual friend…it's sort of troubling really."

"I'll say…friends with a future ace reporter? You're doomed."

"Don't I know it," he muttered with an exasperated sigh. "I'll go speak with the doctors, see if I can get you released from this hellhole."

She nodded in gratitude as he exited her room in search of her attending physician. She didn't care what everyone else said about Oliver; he was a really nice guy.


	9. In the Dragon's Lair

_A/N: I think you all know what kind of twist will be happening in this installment...enjoy :)_

* * *

_Summary: Set during 5x06 'Exposed'. A possibly feigned injury to Lois' ankle forces Chloe to climb on the stage of the Windgate Gentlemen's Club while Oliver visits the establishment in hopes of finding out more about the scandal involving senator Jennings._

* * *

**In the Dragon's Lair**

Chloe could barely hold down her urge to vomit as she stared at the multicolored lights flickering on the other side of the closed curtain. She had always known that being an investigative reporter would require a few close calls, improvisations and embarrassing situations but she never could have imagined finding herself in this role.

A stripper. She was about to impersonate a stripper.

She sighed as she ran her hands over the tight, black leather skirt her cousin had picked out for her. Chloe exhaled in annoyance as she caught a glimpse of Lois giving her the thumbs up. If Lois hadn't sprained her ankle while trying to fit into a microscopic pair of glittering red and blue panties, Chloe wouldn't be in this position. She was starting to think the brunette had done it on purpose just to see her beloved baby cousin make a complete idiot out of herself. In fact, Chloe was _certain_ Lois' allegedly very painful injury was nothing but a charade.

She cringed as the presenter announced her act to the visitors of the fine establishment she was currently trapped in, describing the 'Windgate's debutante of the evening' as 'every schoolboy's ultimate fantasy'. She supposed it wasn't far from the truth; after all, her skirt was coupled to a white shirt (the first three buttons were, naturally, undone) that offered a generous view of the impossibly tight, lace-filled corset she wore underneath. The whole assemble also included absurdly high black stilettos and a pair of 'naughty secretary glasses', as Lois called the accessory.

The curtains were pulled open before Chloe could give herself another metal pep talk and she had no choice but to climb onto the stage while trying her hardest not to trip.

As she reached the center of the stage and her eyes fell on the imposing pole there, she couldn't help but panic a little. What on Earth was she supposed to do? She wasn't cut out for this sort of thing! She didn't know how to sway her hips to the beat or twirl around that pole like a freaking acrobat and she most certainly did not know how to take her top off without looking like an ungraceful monkey!

_You can do this, Sullivan_, she encouraged herself mentally as she approached the pole with ever-growing dread. _How hard can it possibly be?_

Her fingers curled around the cold metal and she cursed both her chosen career path and her cousin one more time before making a spin around the pole. When she didn't break her neck and even heard a loud whistle coming from the crowd, she suddenly felt just a little bit more confident.

_Well, this isn't so bad_, she thought idly before spinning around one more time. A few twirls later, she felt like she could go for the more risqué moves. Truly hoping she looked as sexy as she was beginning to feel, she slowly undid the remaining buttons of her shirt, slid the material down her arms and in a moment of boosting confidence – or quite possibly pure madness – threw it into the crowd.

She didn't see who caught it but the loud mixture of whistles and cheers assured her the bold move was certainly appreciated. She then proceeded to hooking her leg around the pole and dipping backwards a couple of times, to every male's apparent satisfaction. All the dipping made her a little dizzy so she settled for just spinning around the pole a few times to clear her head.

_This is actually quite fun_, she mused internally as she continued going in circles. _Maybe I could write an article on how small doses of provocative dancing positively affect women's - OLIVER!_

She stopped dead in her tracks, frozen in spot by the sight of one of the customers' faces. Right there in the second row, seated at a small table and gaping at her in such disbelief his jaw was practically hitting the floor, was the one and only Oliver Queen.

She had never been so mortified in her life. Swallowing hard, she silently begged the heavens to be merciful just this once and allow her the sweet oblivion of an instant death.

She got the next best thing. The same man who had introduced her performance was now announcing its end and she couldn't have been more grateful. She came off the stage as fast as she could, determined to get to the back area where Lois was waiting for her as quickly as possible. And after she changed into her normal wear, she would make sure to never _ever_ get into a situation that would require her to look Oliver in the eye again.

"Hey you, new girl!" she heard someone call out from behind her and, a second later, felt a big hand grab her arm, halting her escape. She turned around cautiously, coming face to face with the assistant manager of the Windgate Gentlemen's Club.

"Mr. Queen has requested a private dance," the man informed her, causing her eyes to widen.

"Can't someone else do it?" she almost pleaded. She didn't know what Oliver thought he was doing but she was not about to roll with it.

The manager gave her a disbelieving look, obviously questioning the extent of her intellectual capacities. "He asked for you specifically," he said with an edge in his voice. "Mr. Queen is here for the first time and you better make sure he finds the trip here has been worth his while."

And on that threatening note, the manager stepped to the side, tilting his head in Oliver's direction curtly. Figuring she had no way out and was now officially doomed, Chloe raised her chin and marched up to where Oliver was seated. He seemed to have gotten over his initial shock because he was now smirking and twirling the scotch in his glass around with languid movements.

"There has got to be an easier way for a girl to pay her college tuition," he said teasingly, his eyes examining her attire from the tips of her shiny heels to the rectangular black rim of her glasses. She felt the overwhelming urge to slap him.

He raised an eyebrow at her silence. "I asked for a private dance, you know…this is hardly the right way to go about satisfying one of the biggest VIPs to ever cross the threshold of this lovely establishment."

Chloe glared at him with a murderous glint in her eyes but she knew she could hardly get out of this now. If she failed to 'satisfy' one of their most famous clients, she was sure the criminals who ran the place would ensure she had a slow and painful death…much like the girl whose desperate call had brought her there in the first place.

Seeing no other option and finally admitting defeat, she smiled with feigned sweetness and moved to sit on Oliver's lap. She did so very slowly and gingerly, trying her very best to not press any part of her body to some…sensitive areas. But no matter how hard she tried, her now rather imposing cleavage still ended up right under his nose. He shamelessly let his eyes travel downwards.

"Ah, the natural treasures of Kansas," he mused in content, his gaze lingering on her lace-covered breasts. She took her revenge by digging her recently manicured nails into his thigh. She smiled in wicked satisfaction when he visibly flinched.

"Eyes up here, I get it," he grumbled, finally lifting his gaze to her infuriated one but couldn't help but smirk again as he observed her glasses. "I have to admit, you really are everything I fantasized about when I was in high school."

She wasn't amused. "What are you doing here?"

"I think the real question is what are _you_ doing here?" he retorted, his features turning serious for the first time that evening.

"I'm chasing down a lead," she answered defiantly, making him raise his eyebrows in disbelief.

"By yourself?"

She rolled her eyes at the question. It would be a rookie mistake to go in without any back-up. "Lois is waiting for me backstage."

He sighed in exasperation. The woman had a death wish for sure. Both her _and_ her cousin. What were they thinking, the two of them going alone to such a shady locale?

"So, what's your excuse for watching women shred away every last piece of dignity they have?" she asked, making him snort derisively.

"You seemed to have enjoyed 'shredding away every last piece of your dignity'…along with that shirt I'm pretty sure that guy over there," he vaguely gestured to a table to their right with his glass, "is till sniffing."

She blushed at the statement but refused to look away. "I found it to be…oddly empowering."

"I'll bet. And as for my excuse for being here, I'm just trying to figure out if good old Lex had something to do with what's happening to senator Jennings. It's just a bit too much of a coincidence that this is happening precisely when the whispers of Lex's candidacy are getting louder."

Chloe blinked at him in surprise. "You're here because of the senator too?"

He rolled his eyes. "I should've figured out that's why you were here…after all, the senator is an old Kent family friend."

"That's actually not why I…ended up here," she admitted, figuring this wasn't the best time to get into details. "Let's meet outside and compare notes."

"Sounds good."

She nodded and started to get off his lap but he halted her movement by placing a hand on her hip. When she looked at him questioningly, he produced a hundred dollar bill from his pocket and remorselessly placed it in the small crevice her pushed together breasts created.

"For your efforts," he explained as if it were obvious. She looked aghast for a moment before smiling coldly and getting to her feet, making sure to stab him in the toes with the pointy end of her heel as she walked away.

_Worth it_, he thought as the unpleasant pain radiated through his foot. He watched her move away, strangely mesmerized by the rhythmic sashaying of her hips. He had never seen Chloe in this position before…dressed to appeal to the most primal parts of men, exuding sexuality…

He shook his head. This place was making him crazy. He wasn't supposed to view Chloe in a sexual way. Not now, not _ever_.

Downing the rest of his drink down, he placed a generous amount of money on the table before getting up himself and heading backstage to meet Chloe and exchange information.

He found her in the dressing rooms in the back of the club. Upon closer inspection, he realized she looked rather distraught.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, dragging her to the more secluded part of the room.

"Lois left with some guy," she hissed, furious at her cousin for being so reckless. "I talked to one of the girls She said Lo left with some fancy, European man. She's following a lead, I know she is…she left me her phone…it has a bunch of pictures of license plates from the parking lot and - "

Her speech was interrupted by the sudden interruption of the club's music and a very loud "Metropolis PD, nobody move!" echoing throughout the space.

Chloe's eyes widened. "It's a raid," she said frantically as she grabbed Oliver's hand and headed towards the back exit. "They can't see us – especially you – here. Let's go!"

Oliver wholeheartedly agreed with her logic and followed her out of the club. They got into his car and drove away as quickly as possible.

* * *

Chloe exhaled in relief as she heard her cousin's voice from the other side of the phone line, letting her know she was safe and sound. After the raid, everything had been hectic. Oliver had gone to make some phone calls and pull every string he had to make sure Lois was found while Chloe and Clark had set camp in the Daily Planet where Chloe had ran all the registration plates Lois had snapped a picture of. She'd managed to find the one belonging to the European diplomat her cousin had left the club with and had sent Clark to the rescue. She'd returned to the Talon after that, just twiddling her thumbs as she waited for some news.

Feeling exhausted from all of the worrying, Chloe hang up the phone and went downstairs to get a fix of Smallville's best cappuccino. Just as she finished fixing the beverage and sat down at one of the empty tables, Oliver walked in. It took him a second to note her relaxed posture and realize everything had gone smoothly. He hadn't managed to get anywhere with his contacts and was about to simply go looking for Lois himself but the problem seemed to already be solved.

"I take it Lois is no longer in danger of winding up dead by the side of a road," he said as he approached Chloe's table and taking a seat.

She shivered slightly before responding. "She's fine…Clark's bringing her back to Smallville."

Oliver nodded, relieved that the brunette was saved from the clutches of an above-the-law pervert. "So," he began after a few moments of silence, during which Chloe had kept staring at her coffee, "about that lap dance…"

Her head snapped upwards at impressing speed, her glare so intense, it would have made a lesser man wet himself in fear. Oliver, however, simply smirked.

"If you ever mention that to anyone," she threatened, her voice lethal, "and I mean _anyone_, I will…"

She paused there, obviously trying to come up with a torture tactic horrid enough for such behavior. Oliver used the few seconds of silence to his advantage.

"Are you going to punish me if I tell anyone…_professor_?" he couldn't help but tease, his lips curving into a challenging smile.

Her glare grew tenfold in response. "Keep the jokes coming Queen, and you'll see just how much damage I can cause."

He raised his hands in surrender, figuring it wouldn't be wise to push her buttons any further when she was still testy because of everything that had happened with Lois.

When she was sure he wouldn't start cracking jokes again, her expression softened. "Thank you," she said warmly, "for helping out."

"My contacts got us nowhere…I hardly helped."

She shrugged his statement off. "It's the thought that counts…you were willing to help us and you didn't have to. You always do that," she noted, cocking her head to the side in an affectionate manner. "Help us – me in particular – even if you don't have to."

He was the one shrugging it off this time. "I figured it would ensure I stayed on your good side…wouldn't want to know how the _other_ half lives."

She smiled widely at that. It was something he did very often too; deflecting serious subjects with humor. She found that trait of his character to be surprisingly comforting. After all, it was something she did often as well…more frequently than she'd like to admit, she would brush off her feelings with the help of a few sarcasm-coated quips and she felt that Oliver did the same thing. That meant they had an unofficial understanding; he knew she was grateful for everything he did for her, she knew he did it because he cared.

"I feel like watching some mindless comedy," she stated after a while, "Care to join me? The invitation includes an exclusive peek at the new Sullivan-Lane cave above the shop."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "I feel somewhat honored and mildly frightened at the prospect of stepping foot there."

She chuckled lightly as she rose from her chair and motioned for him to follow.

"Come on, what's a small women's lair for a fearless hero such as yourself?" she taunted as they climbed the stairs leading up to the little apartment she – as of very recently – shared with Lois.

"Given the women in question, I'd go with 'scary'."

"Feeling threatened by strong women, are we, Queen?" she asked as she unlocked the door and let him in.

"Threatened? No. Slightly emasculated? Definitely."

She laughed wholeheartedly at his admission, moving a few pieces of clothing from the couch so he could sit. "On the bright side, there will always be an endless defile of brainless bimbos willing to do everything in their power to boost your ego."

He nodded in agreement as his eyes took on a faraway look. "God bless the bimbos."

She snorted as she shoved a batch of popcorn into the microwave and set the timer. "Remember when you told me how you pity the poor soul who would one day be so unfortunate as to call himself my husband?" she asked as she reached for some glasses for their drinks.

"Yeah."

"Well, I pity the poor – possibly surgically-enhanced – blonde who will one day make the extremely bad decision of marrying you for your money," she declared cheerfully as she offered him a glass of orange juice.

"Sullivan, you amuse me," he said as he clinked their glasses together.

"We've already established that my sense of humor is out of this world," she remarked off-handedly as she booted up her laptop and placed it on her lap. She then leaned further into the cushions, googling the best rated comedies of the year and proceeding to download them through possibly illegal channels.

Oliver watched her work her computer magic with a smile on his face. Whoever that poor, unfortunate soul she ended up marrying may be…he was a lucky guy.


	10. In the Halls of Fame

_Summary: Set during 5x10 'Fanatic'. A small press pass mishap at work places Chloe in the middle of a very unexpected reveal when she visits Oliver at his hotel for an interview._

* * *

**In the Halls of Fame**

It was a rather hectic day at work. Then again, the Daily Planet's bullpen had never been known for its peaceful and quiet atmosphere. They were getting their new ID press passes that day and the retrieval of said passes consisted of digging into a massive carton box filled with little plastic nametags, futilely hoping to spot your own in the never-ending sea of names.

Chloe sighed as she noted the large mass of people that had gathered around the box. She really needed that press pass but she was already running late as it was. As the lovely Miss Kahn had told her, not many rookie reporters got the opportunity to interview one of the most famous people in America. Of course, Chloe knew that her talents had little to do with the fact that she had landed an interview with Oliver Queen, who had made a short trip to Metropolis for this or that business reason. Apparently, the blonde billionaire had requested her specifically when the Daily Planet had asked him for a few quotes for a front page piece. Miss Kahn had a little something to say about that too, naturally. She absolutely _did not_ condone Chloe's methods, implying in a rather transparent manner that the blonde reporter from Smallville was offering Mr. Queen 'inappropriate' services in exchange for the interview.

"Don't think that you can sleep your way to the upper floors, Sullivan," the editor-in-chief had told her, even as Chloe had fruitlessly tried to convince her that she was not having a sexual relationship with Star City's most eligible bachelor.

Chloe sighed yet again as she moved towards the crowd with purpose. Trust Oliver to unintentionally ruin her non-existent reputation.

Using her small height to her advantage, she squeezed her way through the taller reporters, finally making her way to the edge of the box with only one or two potential bruises. She reached inside and dug helplessly, being rushed and screamed at by the people behind her all the while. After what seemed like an eternity of pushing and shoving, she finally caught glimpse of a familiarly-looking face with blonde hair and called it success. She snatched the pass and quickly moved away from all the craziness, stuffing her trophy into her bag and smoothing out her hair and skirt as she made her way out the door.

* * *

Oliver finished his morning shower in an uncharacteristically cheerful mood. He did have quite a few things to be cheerful about after all; his business meetings were going great so far, he was finally starting to get a hang on the whole vigilante thing and he was going to have the single most relaxing interview of his life in approximately one hour. When the Daily Planet had first contacted his PR department regarding an interview, he'd asked them to negotiate the least annoying reporter being sent his way. Then, in the name of research, he'd bought a copy of the Planet and found an all-too-familiar name listed as the author of quite a few obituaries and wedding announcements. He'd immediately called his PR department back, telling them to ask specifically for Chloe Sullivan.

Smiling and even whistling merrily, he went to his dresser and put on the first thing he found there. Really, there was no need to get all dressed up for Chloe. They'd probably get the interview thing over in a matter of minutes, after which he'd have all the time in the world to first berate her for not telling him that she'd gotten into the big leagues and then make a wide array of inappropriate remarks about the lap dance she'd given him a few weeks prior…after all, he hadn't _officially_ promised her to never bring it up again.

He sighed contently. It was going to be a good day.

* * *

Chloe cursed loudly as she pulled her car into a stop in front of Oliver's hotel and reached in her bag for her press pass, getting the first real look at it.

She'd gotten the wrong one. Instead of her own, she'd snatched the one belonging to Lisa Marks, one of the reporters for the economics section of the newspaper. In her defense, they did look very much alike…short blonde hair, green eyes, similar facial structure…the only difference was Lisa already had a Pulitzer under her belt.

Chloe hit the steering wheel in frustration before taking a deep breath. It wasn't that big of a deal…she would use Lisa's pass to get past the hotel's security and would return it to her fellow reporter – with an abundance of apologies – after having finished her interview with Oliver. After all, her favorite billionaire knew _she_ was the one coming to play twenty questions and would realize it was some sort of weird mistake on her part. He wasn't _that_ dumb.

* * *

"Mr. Queen, a Lisa Marks is here to see you," the head of Oliver's security spoke through the intercom, making Oliver frown. He checked his watch, noting it was twenty minutes past the time Chloe had set for their interview. He realized the Planet had most likely disregarded his wishes about which reporter to send and had put the most appropriate one instead of the one he'd asked for in charge of the article. He made a mental note to give them a piece of his mind about it later but if they had already sent a replacement, they couldn't have picked a better one. He and Lisa had run into each other a few times over the years, as it was to be expected. She was one of the most respected reporters for all matters of the global market, economics and business and he was one of the most successful CEOs on the planet; they were bound to cross paths once in a while. Of course, said paths often lead to the bedroom, something Oliver was certain would happen this time around too.

He couldn't help but feel disappointed Chloe couldn't make it but at least he had a consolation price.

"Send her up."

* * *

Chloe released yet another sigh as the private elevator leading directly to Oliver's suite skidded to a halt. Her too-rich-to-function friend had given his gorillas the permission to let her through, which meant he'd figured out she'd had some silly, identity-swapping mishap. Of course, that also meant she was about to hear a never-ending string of jokes about both her eyesight and intelligence. That was certainly a thing to look forward to.

The elevator chimed as the doors slid open. "I know what you're going to say so don't even – _OH MY GOD!_"

Instead of being greeted by – what she assumed would be – Oliver's patronizing expression, she found herself face to face with…Oliver_ Junior_.

Her shock was so intense, she just kept staring – eyes wide and jaw dropped – at her friend, who was currently _sans _a stich of clothing.

Her flabbergasted state wore off after a few seconds and she turned around quickly, futilely trying to dispel the image that was now forever imprinted in her mind.

"Oh my God!" she practically shouted once more as she turned her back to Oliver.

"You're not Lisa," she heard her friend state the obvious from behind her and couldn't help but snap.

"You think! Why…why would you even…are you…oh my God, you're having an affair with Lisa!" she exclaimed as everything clicked and – in a moment of triumphant satisfaction for her deduction skills – turned around again, forgetting the situation they were in, only to be confronted by the sight of Oliver frantically covering the more sensitive parts of his anatomy with his hands.

"Sorry!" she yelled as she realized her mistake, covering her eyes and turning her back to him once again.

A few seconds of awkward silence ensued before Oliver finally spoke. "I'm…I'm just going to put some clothes on," he mumbled before disappearing into the bedroom.

Chloe remained rooted in her spot, not daring to move and unable to keep her brain from replaying the image she'd just seen on an endless loop. She had to admit, he did have some rather impressive…features. Far better than what she had seen on Jimmy during that summer between freshman and sophomore year of high school. And Oliver did have a very defined set of abs…and his hipbones did draw a perfect V right down to his…

_No Sullivan, don't even go there_, her rational side cautioned. If she wasn't careful, she'd start fantasizing about the billionaire boy wonder (a label Lois found to be very endearing)…who was also her friend…and occasional savior…and _yummy_.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. _Bad, bad thoughts_, she chastised the more hormone-driven parts of her.

Before her thoughts could get any more inappropriate, she heard barefooted steps and a soft 'you can turn around now' behind her. She did so very slowly, working up the nerve to just look him in the eyes.

"I am _so_ sorry," he apologized as soon as she faced him, sounding very contrite about his most recent act of exhibitionism.

She couldn't bring herself to respond, feeling too awkward to even speak.

"Say something," he pleaded after the silence grew too long, making her snap out of her numb state.

"Are you _insane_?" she hollered, making him flinch. "Do you have absolutely no common sense? How could you even…I mean…did you even…why…you do realize I'm scarred for life now, right?"

"It can't be that bad…" he hedged but recoiled quickly at the murderous look in her eyes.

"Not that bad? Not _that_ bad? Friends aren't supposed to see each other _naked_, Oliver! _Ever_!"

"Well, you gave me that lap dance a little while ago…can't this just mean we're even?"

"No!"

"Okay, sorry…but seriously, it was an honest mistake! I thought you were Lisa!"

"I realize that!" she snapped, waving her hands around in frustration. "I took her press pass by mistake this morning and I thought you would realize it was me but of course I hadn't counted on your habit of getting down and dirty with her and do you even know how inappropriate this affair of yours is? Of course that speaks more of her integrity than yours because we all know you have none - "

"Hey!"

" – but this is just…it's…I…I need some water," she finally said in exasperation, plopping down on the nearest armchair and burying her face in her hands.

"Water, right," he muttered before making a quick trip to the kitchenette he had in his suite and bringing her the largest glass of water he could find. He slowly sat on the armrest of the chair she was in and gave her the water, which she downed in one gulp.

"I'm sorry," he repeated again when she set the glass down on the coffee table. "I really am."

"I'm sorry too," she said softly, still looking at her hands, "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

"Well, you were shocked by how impressive - "

"I know _exactly_ what you're going to say next," she interrupted him, craning her head sideways to glare at him, "and for your sake, you better_not_ say it out loud."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Backing off."

She took a deep breath. "Okay, we can be adults about this," she rationalized, staring at her now empty glass, "I've seen your genitals, so what? A lot of other women have seen it too. Besides, it's just a part of a man's anatomy…it's not a big deal, really."

He scrunched his nose. "That sounded awfully clinical but hey, if that's your coping mechanism, then I won't object."

She sighed deeply before running a hand through her hair. "You know, I thought nothing could possibly top the conversation I had with Clark last night in the 'sexually awkward situations' department…I guess I was wrong."

"You and Clark had a…sexually awkward situation?"

"No, Clark and _Lana_ had a sexually awkward situation," she clarified, "I just got to hear all about it."

He simply couldn't contain the snort that escaped him. "I would have loved to be the fly on _that_ wall," he joked before his eyes widened as if he had just realized something. "Wait, since when does Clark find himself in sexually awkward situations? Oh God, our boy scout is becoming a man!"

The overly dramatic enthusiasm in his voice made her roll her eyes and laugh lightly but she didn't speak again. After the silence grew too long for Oliver, he scratched the back of his neck nervously. "So, can we agree to forget this ever happened and never speak of it again?"

"Deal," she agreed readily before offering him a small smile. "Want to get on with the interview I came for now?"

He nodded. "Sure. But first I want you to explain how is it that I'm the only one who didn't know about your new status as an official reporter?"

"I'm hardly a reporter yet," she pointed out, sighing quietly, "All I do is write obituaries and man the hotline during the graveyard shift. But thanks to your adamant request for this interview, I am on my way to earn a not very flattering reputation."

"I'd say I was sorry but since you've denied me the opportunity to throw a celebration in honor of your internship by not telling me about it…"

"Like you needed my internship as an excuse to throw a party," she grumbled, making him smirk. He knew it was probably unhealthy to enjoy pushing her buttons this much but he simply couldn't help himself.

"Don't pretend like you wouldn't want a huge festivity with your name on it," he said cheerfully as he moved to put an arm around her shoulders, only to be startled by her jumping away as if burned.

"No touching!" she ordered.

"Fine, fine," he conceded, pulling his hands as far away from her as he could. "I understand if you still don't trust yourself to be able to withhold the urges seeing me _au naturel_ has awakened in - "

"You know what, let's just get on with the interview," she interrupted his new attempt at provoking her, mostly because she could already feel the heat raising in her cheeks and she would be damned if she gave him the satisfaction of seeing her blush.

"As you wish," he obliged before getting off the armrest and making himself more comfortable on the adjacent couch. "But I don't really see what I could possibly tell you right now that you don't already know."

"How about your latest business ventures?"

"I'm pretty sure you already know all about those, since I can't imagine you coming here without having done your research."

Chloe bit her lower lip to keep herself from smiling. He was partially right…only, her research involved less internet surfing and more hacking into the Queen Industries' central database. She had been learning some new computer tricks for quite a while and decided the cyber heart of her friend's empire would be the perfect place to test her skills. But there was no need for him to know that.

"I still think a little personal input from you would make a much better read than a monotone description of your corporate prowess," she pointed out but he waved her off.

"You can make that part up by yourself. You know me well enough to think of something believable. Now, what I really wanted to do was show you the new outfit I've commissioned for my secretary. I think you'll really like it…you and your dancing talents were, after all, the inspiration for it."

Her nostrils flared as she realized what he was getting at. And to think she actually believed him when he said they would never bring that incident up again…she should have known better than to trust a billionaire by now.

She smiled with fake sweetness as she folded her hands in her lap delicately. "Oliver, do you know who Linda Lake is?"

He nodded readily. "The tabloid queen of Metropolis and biggest harpy to ever walk the face of the Earth, if my PR is to be believed."

"Exactly. So do _not_ make me slip a photoshopped picture of you and Clark in a passionate lip-lock into her morning mail."

His kneejerk reaction was to swallow nervously because he knew Chloe was more than capable of delivering on that threat. He decided to quickly backpedal out of those dangerous waters. "On a second thought, maybe Karen will be just as happy wearing her own clothes."

"Smart boy," she praised before taking out her voice recorder and notebook. "Now, give me some quotes."

* * *

A while later, after Oliver had diligently given her all the quotations she desired, they settled back onto the couch as he placed a call to order some room service.

Chloe kicked her heels off with a sigh of bliss and promptly placed her feet on the coffee table. Oliver eyed them down warily as he handed her a plate of lasagna. "I wonder what, you letting me be in the same room as your smelly feet, says about our friendship."

"I'm going to let that one slide just because I am too hungry and comfortable to bother with causing you some pain," she declared before stuffing a forkful of the dish into her mouth.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Oliver decided to start on a new conversation topic. "So, I hear Mr. Kent is giving a speech tonight."

She nodded and made sure to swallow her food before speaking. "Yeah. He's been planning that speech for weeks and he refused to back down even after he received some very hands-on death threats. I think he might just be made of steel."

"It's definitely admirable," Oliver agreed. He had read all about the incident that had happened at the farm the previous day, when Mr. Kent was hung upside down by – what appeared to be – some very disturbed members of the opposition. Lex's followers, that is. "Do you think Lex might have something do with it?" he asked, unable to shake his suspicions. He had an unwritten rule to always consider his old schoolmate guilty until proven innocent and he suspected it might be clouding his judgment this time, which was why he needed a second opinion.

Chloe shook her head slowly. "I'm not sure…Mr. Kent seems to think so but...Lex might have done some questionable things and proven himself to be very untrustworthy but I don't think he would ever go after Mr. Kent like this. I wouldn't put it past him to try and sabotage his campaign but I still think he would use much more underhanded methods."

"I think you're right," Oliver agreed, "but it still begs the question of just how psychopathic his fans are."

"That's exactly why Mrs. Kent insisted on having better security tonight. Clark told me she made the guards swear on everything they hold dear to watch her husband like hawks."

He smiled slightly. "She's a great woman."

"She really is," Chloe said fondly. "I feel like she's the mother I don't really remember having."

She froze as soon as the words were out of her mouth, unsure what had possessed her to just say that. She never spoke of her mother, not even in front of Clark and Lana so why on Earth had she just allowed herself to slip up now?

Oliver looked at her sideways, noting how she had suddenly gone rigid. Though he had never asked her about her mom, he assumed she wasn't around since he had only ever seen her with and heard her speak of her dad. He didn't really like to prod but… "What happened with your mom?" he asked softly, hoping the question wouldn't send her running out of the suite.

She inhaled deeply as she dragged her fork around her plate, smearing the lasagna around. "She left when I was five," she admitted quietly, deciding it was safe to let Oliver in on that part of the story; they were friends, after all.

"Do you know where she is now?"

"No and I don't want to," she snapped, making his eyes widen in surprise. Something about the way she spoke and turned her gaze away made him think there was more to the story than just a lifetime of resentment for being abandoned but he let it slide, not wanting to spoil her mood more than – though inadvertently – he already had.

He went silent for a few moments, letting her take a few deep breaths and settle down before changing the subject. "I'm thinking about going to Mr. Kent's rally tonight."

She took a moment to calm herself down completely and accepted the change of subject readily, silently grateful that he respected her enough not to push the topic of her mother any further. "I didn't think you had an interest in politics."

"I normally don't but when Lex gets involved, it piques my interest."

"Wow, you really have a massive grudge against him, don't you?"

"Let's just say I've seen what he's capable of."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "You billionaires really have a knack for the cryptic," she observed with a touch of annoyance before sighing. "But in all honesty, I'm not too thrilled about the idea of having Lex in the senate either. I want Mr. Kent to beat him but I'm not sure how long he can keep up with the financial burden of the campaign…"

Her concerns about the Kent's financial difficulties caught his attention. "Do you think Mr. Kent would accept if I offered to finance his campaign?"

She looked at him in disbelief. "You can certainly try but Mr. Kent is a very proud man who doesn't like to be in debt with anyone, especially not someone of your standing. Besides, I sincerely doubt he'd ever accept help from someone who is only interested in seeing Lex fail," she said sharply, making him shift his gaze away from hers in what she supposed was shame.

"If you want to help Mr. Kent," she went on, making sure to keep all accusations out of her voice, "make sure you do it for the right reasons because if you don't, he'll see right through your sugarcoated lies in a second."

Oliver nodded slowly. "Then I guess that's all the more reason for me to go to the rally and see if he stands for the same things I do."

Chloe smiled slightly as she shook her head. He could really spin every situation to his advantage. She supposed it was yet another billionaires' specialty.

"Then _I_ guess I'll be seeing you tonight," she concluded as she slipped her heels back on and rose to her feet.

"You're leaving already?" he asked impulsively as he got up as well.

"I've been here for two hours," she pointed out as she slid her bag onto her shoulder, "and, unlike you, I don't get to make up my own work hours."

He reluctantly agreed with her reasoning. "All right. See you tonight, then."

* * *

At Mr. Kent's rally that evening, they sat next to each other in the first row as they listened to the man's speech. He talked about restoring family values and 'bringing the heart back to the heartland', something Oliver found to be much more sincere and to the likes of Kansas than Lex's plans of focusing on the economy and the state's status among the rest of the country. Still, Chloe had been right. His reasons for wanting to give Mr. Kent a financial boost were more selfish than they should have been. Truthfully, he had never taken much interest in politics, especially not the ones pertaining to a state that wasn't even his own but the moment Lex had announced his candidacy, he had started tripping all over himself to learn everything there was to know about the senatorial elections for Kansas. And as he listened to Jonathan speak, he realized Chloe had been right about another thing; the chances of Mr. Kent accepting his help were very slim indeed.

"You know," Chloe leaned in closer to whisper in his ear, "I think you should run for senate as well. I mean, you could just flash that smile of yours at them and get any bill you want passed."

"I don't think that's quite the way it works," he whispered back with a smile.

She craned her head sideways to smirk at him. "Does that mean you're starting to question your charm's power?"

He started rolling his eyes at the impossibility of that scenario but caught a glimpse of a small reflecting light in the process. Craning his head over his shoulder, he realized the glimmer had come from one of reflectors in the room passing over…a riffle gun.

"Everybody get down!" he yelled instinctively as the shot rang out, throwing himself out of his seat and onto the stage, tackling Mr. Kent to the floor before the guards meant to protect him could.

Commotion ensued as people started gasping, screaming and flattening themselves to the ground as more guards pulled their own weapons out.

Mr. Kent seemed disoriented for a moment before looking up at Oliver with wide eyes. The latter flashed him his most dazzling grin. "Mr. Kent…how would you feel about a contribution to your campaign?"

* * *

"He said 'no'," Oliver said in defeat as he watched the police officers lead Lex's deranged fan away with Chloe by his side.

She couldn't help but snort. "You sound so surprised."

"I should have expected it but…I mean, I did _possibly_ save his life."

That made her burst into laughter. "If you think _that_ alone will get you into his good graces, then you really don't know him that well at all."

"I guess you're right," he conceded. "But he did thank me…and Mrs. Kent invited me for dinner. Of course, I had to decline."

"Because you didn't want to spend an entire evening with Clark?"

"The official version is that I am too busy to make time for dinner."

"Your secret is safe with me," she declared loyally and with a smile on her face before her features took on a more serious look. She was silent for a few moments before speaking again. "Oliver, what I'm about to say to you is strictly confidential and I will forever deny it if you repeat it to anyone."

"Okay…" he said slowly, confused by both her words and facial expression.

"I think that underneath all that oversexed and egotistical façade, you have the heart of a true hero," she admitted softly with an almost imperceptible twinge of admiration in her voice, "You just risked your life to save a man you barely even know…not very many people would do that. I just thought you should know."

He looked completely stunned for a moment before smiling gratefully. "Thanks."

"Don't let it go to your head," she said while rolling her eyes. "You're still an obnoxious playboy."

He nodded, accepting it was all the praise he was going to get from her. "Well, how about I buy you a cup of coffee with my obnoxious playboy money?"

"I won't say no to coffee," she agreed lightly. "I'll just go and make sure the Kent's are okay and then we can go."

"Sure."

As he watched her make her way over to her best friend and his parents, he started racking his brain in an attempt to remember the last time someone else had actually bothered to look beneath the surface and see him for more than just a mindless rich boy. He really couldn't recall such an occasion.


	11. In the Mind's Eye

_A/N: Long time, no update, I know. I got a little sidetracked...well, 'a little' is probably not quite fitting for the long gap between installments but I hope this update makes up for it. It's rather long, you see._

_Also, this should be the last rewrite for season 5. 'Should be' because I'm toying with the idea of writing a short scene for 5x18 'Fragile' but since the conversation I had in mind can be incorporated in a season 6 rewrite, I think I'll end up including it later stories. So, unless another idea strikes me out of the blue, the next rewrites in this series will be the season 6 ones. And as you all know, that's when all the fun really begins._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy this installment :)_

* * *

_Summary: Set during 5x14 'Tomb'. Oliver rushes to Metropolis when a worried Clark calls to tell him Chloe has cut her wrists._

* * *

**In the Mind's Eye**

"How can anyone _possibly _be so dull?" Oliver wondered out loud as he read a very lengthy, extremely sleep-inducing e-mail from one of Queen Industries' major investors. His urge to doze off as he skimmed over the words was growing by the second and he was honestly starting to consider gluing his eyelids to his forehead in order to keep them from shutting.

As if to answer his prayers for a distraction, his cell phone buzzed on the table and he snatched it with enthusiasm, only to frown when he saw Clark's name on the caller ID. He hadn't spoken to anyone in Smallville for a few weeks, ever since he had called Clark and Martha to offer them his condolences for Jonathan's passing.

Frowning further, he pressed the answer button and brought the phone to his ear. "I think there's a fifty-fifty shot you meant to dial someone else."

"I wish it was so," Clark spoke from the other end of the line and the grim edge in his voice put Oliver on alert.

"What's going on?" he asked, having a gut feeling this was related to Chloe. He really couldn't think of another reason why his favorite boy scout would be calling him out of the blue, sounding this concerned.

"Chloe is in the hospital," Clark told him and made a slight pause before continuing. "She cut her wrists."

The words made Oliver freeze. "You'll have to run that by me again because there is no way I heard that one right."

He heard a deep sigh coming from the other end of the line. "Lois found her on her bathroom floor, wrists cut…I saw the bandages on her hands with my own eyes, Oliver."

"That's just…Chloe would never do that," Oliver said with certainty. He may not know Chloe as well as Clark or Lois did, but he knew for sure she would never try to take her own life. As he had witnessed on several occasions, she was a fighter, not a quitter.

"I know," Clark assured him, "Which is why I think something else happened…I have no idea what but I'll try to find out. The problem is…they're treating her case as attempted suicide and all these psychologists and psychiatrists are suggesting therapies and whatnot so…"

"So you need someone like me to run interference if they get a little too enthusiastic," Oliver finished for him, sensing that Clark struggled with getting to the gist of the matter. Just like his father, Clark seemed to be way too proud to ask anyone for favors.

"Pretty much, yeah."

Oliver nodded to himself. "I'll be there in a couple of hours."

* * *

Chloe shifted slightly in her hospital bed as she heard soft footsteps outside the room, followed by a light knock on the door. Her eyes widened slightly when they landed on her visitor but the momentary surprise soon faded; she should have known he would show up.

"You know," he began teasingly as he leaned against the doorframe, "if you wanted to be in my delightful presence again, you could have just called…you really didn't have to get this theatrical about it."

"Yes, you have figured out my master plan," she stated flatly, "This was all just a ploy so I could see you again."

He shrugged nonchalantly as he pushed himself away from the door and stepped further into the room. "Well, I am extremely pleasant to look at," he agreed, making her smile.

"What are you doing here, Oliver?" she asked softly. Not that she didn't appreciate him flying halfway across her country to be by her side, but he had to have more important things to do. He could have just called to check up on her.

"What I do best, fair maiden," he declared solemnly, resting a hand over his heart dramatically, "I have come to slay this new beast that has attacked you."

She raised an eyebrow. "And I assume the mighty sword you intended to use to accomplish this feat is hidden under your robes?"

"Nah, I had to check the sword out at the entrance…metal detectors and all that."

She only managed to keep a straight face for about a millisecond before she burst out laughing. He grinned, feeling quite proud of himself for having succeeded in brightening her mood.

He waited for her laughter to subside before turning serious. "What happened, Chloe?"

Her smile disappeared as soon as the question reached her ears and she sighed. "I didn't hurt myself, Oliver," she said determinedly, trying not to let her annoyance get the best of her. It was bad enough that her own _cousin_ believed she was on a suicide mission; she really didn't need Oliver to start talking about how she was one stop short of Crazyville too.

"I never said you did," he countered calmly, if not a bit condescendingly. "I was just asking a simple question."

"Don't patronize me!"

"Fine, then how about this? You were found bleeding from both wrists on your bathroom floor and, since I don't believe you would ever do that, that means someone either hurt you or forced you to hurt yourself and, quite frankly, I don't like either of those scenarios, especially since I was here the last time someone was running around and controlling minds in Smallville!"

Her eyebrows shot upwards at his outburst and she went silent, unable to come up with any retort. After a few breaths, he regained his composure. "Sorry about that."

"Apology accepted," she replied automatically as she let out a small, nervous laugh.

"Look, Chloe," he spoke again, "I know you didn't do this…not willingly, at least. And that means someone or, given where you spend most of your time, some_thing_ is after you…again."

"That's Clark's theory too," she told him with a sigh, closing her eyes. _At least my two favorite boys are finally agreeing on something_, she thought as she tried to find the silver lining of the mess she had somehow gotten herself into before her eyes snapped open again in shock over her own internal musings. When exactly did Oliver become one of 'her favorite boys'?

She frowned and then shook her head jerkily, as if trying to dispel that ridiculous label from her mind.

Oliver observed her unusual twitch with furrowed brows. "You okay there, Chloe?"

"What? Oh yeah, I'm…totally fine. You were saying?"

He gave her a puzzled look before shrugging her odd behavior off. "I was saying that Clark is currently snooping around the Talon," he said as he made himself comfortable in the visitor's chair, "and I'm here to fend off the vultures."

* * *

A little while later, after chatting about mindless topics and poking fun at Clark, Chloe requested that coffee be brought to her immediately. With a solemn "your wish is my command" and a very deep bow, Oliver went to the cafeteria to fetch her the beverage.

It took him longer than expected to complete the errand since it appeared that half of Metropolis had lined up in from of the rather bewildered barista, making the queue stretch past the cafeteria's doors. Still, he had successfully completed his mission and was casually walking back to Chloe's bedside. It wasn't until he rounded the corner of the corridor her room was in that he heard the commotion and saw a number of nurses and orderlies rushing past him towards the open door of Chloe's room.

The precious coffee cup was immediately discarded into the nearest bin as Oliver too broke into a run, only to stop dead in his tracks as the inside of the room finally came into view. Three nurses were restraining her as a man, who Oliver presumed to be a doctor, tried to connect a syringe to her IV while she struggled and pleaded with them restlessly. He'd never seem her so scared or vulnerable before.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he bellowed as he crossed the threshold, pushing an orderly out of his way in the process.

Chloe's frightened eyes widened as she spotted him, starting to fight even harder against the hands that were holding her down. "Ollie! Ollie, please make them stop," she sobbed in a weak, terrified voice that almost brought tears to his eyes.

The doctor paid no attention to her pleas and didn't spare him a glance as he spoke. "She's been experiencing hallucinations and erratic behavior. We need to sedate her before - "

His words were cut as Oliver roughly grabbed his wrist, the one holding the needle. "You will do nothing of the sort," he hissed, making the doctor stare at him in shock for a moment before adopting one of the most condescending faces Oliver had ever seen. The poor bastard probably thought he was just some insignificant relative who didn't understand the ways of modern medicine.

"Do you have any medical training whatsoever? Because if you don't, you have no - "

"No, I don't have medical training," Oliver cut him off, his voice laced with threat, "but what I do have is extensive _influence_. In fact, I'm one of the most influential people you'll ever meet, _doctor_," he practically spat the title, his disdain evident. "Oliver Queen, perhaps you've heard of me. And I can assure you that if you put that needle within ten feet of her, I _will _make sure you lose your license and get blacklisted by every hospital in the _world_ before you can even blink. Do I make myself clear?"

"You can't - "

"Do I…make…myself…clear?" Oliver repeated slowly but harshly, making sure to put emphasis on every word.

The doctor seemed to be having an internal struggle but he obviously wasn't as foolish as to go against one of the most powerful men in the world. Oliver knew that this was probably an abuse of power but at the moment, he really didn't care. After all, this is what he was here for.

Slowly and with a look of extreme displeasure, the doctor began to lower his hand and Oliver finally released his wrist, not taking his eyes off the offending syringe until it was safely tossed into the garbage.

"Who on Earth do you think you are?" a rather shrill, enraged voice reached his ears and, looking back at the doorway, he finally noticed Lana, who had been standing there the entire time.

His eyes narrowed. "You do well to stay out of this, Miss Lang," he warned, his voice low but stern.

"Like hell I will!" she yelled heatedly, moving further into the room but Oliver blocked her path before she could get too close to Chloe's bed. "She needs help!"

"And you honestly believe drugging her senseless will do the trick?"

"If it makes her calm down, then yes!"

Oliver's lips curled into a bitter smile. "I think you can find the way out on your own."

Lana fumed silently for a few moments, glaring up at him with all her might before turning around sharply and practically stomping out of the room. Oliver promptly slammed the door shut behind her.

Now that it was just the two of them left, he turned around to face Chloe once more, his features softening.

She looked at him with bleary eyes, having pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top of them. "Thank you," she whispered gratefully, making his heart break for her a little.

He crossed the room in a couple of quick strides and sat next to her on the bed. "I told you I was here to defend you from the vultures," he said simply as he ran a soothing hand over her back.

"You believe me, don't you?" she asked almost fearfully, her eyes wide and glossy as she peered up at him. "That she was here."

"Who?"

"The girl…she was in the bathroom, I saw her…and there were bloody footprints all over the floor…she was asking for my help," she spoke quickly and he could see her holding her breath, waiting for his response.

He smiled reassuringly. "I believe you."

She surprised him by throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. His eyes widened for a moment before he relaxed, gently smoothing her hair with his hand.

"You need to get some rest," he told her softy as he felt her face burrowing further into the crook of his neck. "You can even use me as your pillow if you want."

She giggled lightly through her tears and nodded against the side of his neck. He slowly leaned back against the headboard, pulling her with him until her cheek rested on his chest. She snuggled closer and made herself more comfortable as he began tracing patterns over her back with the tips of his fingers, trying to lull her to sleep.

Her breathing grew slower and steadier as time went by and she murmured a quiet "Thanks, Ollie" before finally letting her eyes drift shut.

_There it is again_, he thought. _Ollie_. He had to admit he rather liked the sound of it. Maybe he could think of a nickname for her too…something like…well, he'd think of something eventually. Besides, there were more important things he needed to think about.

The girl Chloe was talking about…if she was indeed a hallucination, maybe someone had given Chloe some sort of drug that made her see things that weren't really there. Of course, the staff at MetGen was too focused on the possibility of mental illness to even bother ordering extensive blood work but Oliver was sure he could send a sample to one of his many labs for testing. Then again, this was _Smallville_ they were talking about…the girl could actually be there for all he knew. Contacting them from a different plane of existence, using a wormhole in the fabric of time and space to find footing in their world…

Oliver shook his head. He was thinking gibberish.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since Chloe had fallen into a deep sleep but their peace was interrupted as the door opened without warning. The visitor hadn't been forceful in pushing it open but he certainly hadn't been invited in either.

Oliver's eyes narrowed as they took in Lex's mocking smirk.

"Well, this is quite the charming sight."

"It is," Oliver agreed with a nod, "which is why you really shouldn't be spoiling it with your presence."

"I'm only here to help Chloe," Lex spoke calmly, his eyes momentarily drifting towards the blonde's sleeping form. "Lana came to me, said you were keeping the doctors from giving her friend the care she needs."

Oliver's arm instinctively tightened around Chloe. Of course Lana would cause them trouble. He had to remind himself that the nagging troublemaker was one of Chloe's closest friends and that she only meant well.

"You must have been misinformed, Lex," Oliver retorted evenly. "I was only keeping the doctors from traumatizing Chloe any further."

The other man raised a derisive eyebrow. "I know you probably think you're doing the right thing here, Oliver," he said in mock-sympathy, "but she needs help. I have already made the necessary arrangements for her to be transported to Belle Reeve where a team of highly prestigious doctors will attend to her every need."

Oliver's eyes flared with anger. "If you think I'll let you throw her into a padded cell in Belle Reeve, you're sorely mistaken."

Lex seemed unfazed by the threat. "The helicopter will be here in an hour," he stated flatly before turning on his heel and exiting the room.

Oliver allowed himself a few moments to regain his composure before carefully disentangling his body from Chloe's. He got to his feet and closed the door once more before heading for the bathroom and pulling out his cell phone.

"What happened?" Clark asked as soon as he picked up. Oliver almost smiled at the concern that laced his voice.

"What happened is that you should keep a better eye on your girlfriend," Oliver spoke, unable to keep his newfound dislike of Lana out of his voice.

"Lana?" Clark wondered in confusion, momentarily halting his movements. "What did she do?"

"Well, she didn't take it too well when I told her to get lost, apparently. And before you start berating me for not treating her like the delicate flower she is, you should know she went to Lex for…_help_."

Clark was silent for a moment and Oliver heard his sharp intake of breath at the words. "Lex?"

"Mm-hmm. And since Lex is always so caring about his friends, he arranged for Chloe to be transported to Belle Reeve. Now, I can toss my name around all I want but Lex still has more influence than I do here."

"We can't let them take her to Belle Reeve."

"My thoughts exactly, Boy Scout."

"Right, so…we're breaking her out?"

Oliver nodded. "We're breaking her out."

* * *

"The hallway's clear," Clark whispered as he poked his head outside of Chloe's room. He'd arrived barely twenty minutes after having hung up with Oliver, explaining that he was already on his way back to account for the short amount of time it took him to get to MetGen.

"Good. You stand guard at the end of the hallway," Oliver instructed as he moved towards a still sleeping Chloe, "and I'll carry her out."

Clark's eyes went wide at the words. "No, I'll carry her," he objected, stepping further into the room.

Oliver turned to him with Chloe already in his arms, his expression one of pure annoyance. "Don't argue with me, Clark."

"I should carry her."

"I'll let you carry her into the Talon if you really want to. Now, get moving."

"I really think I should - "

"Boys," Chloe's soft voice, still husky from sleep, broke through their bickering, "what are you doing?"

"We're breaking you out of the hospital."

"Mm, that's exciting," she mumbled into Oliver's chest before her eyes snapped wide open. "Wait, what?"

"We're getting you out of here," Oliver told her firmly as he looked down at her confused eyes. "Unless you'd rather spend some quality time in Belle Reeve, of course."

Her eyes widened further at that and moved frantically between the two men. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Clark here is insisting on carrying you himself," Oliver clarified their current predicament, making Clark scowl. He made it sound so unimportant when he phrased it like that.

Chloe looked at her best friend in disbelief. "Clark, I know you really don't like the idea of other men getting anywhere near me but this is really not the time to demonstrate your overprotective streak."

Oliver swore he saw Clark starting to blush. "That's not…I mean…"

"Stop wasting time!" she ordered hastily, even making a shooing motion with her hand. "Move along!"

Finally accepting defeat, Clark moved outside and made sure no one was in the corridor before motioning for Oliver to follow him. They kept to the less busy parts of the hospital and got out through one of the emergency exits. They wasted no time in getting into Oliver's car and driving away as fast as they could in the direction of the Talon.

"Are you sure the Talon is the wisest hideout?" Oliver asked from his place behind the wheel after a few minutes of silence. "That's the first place they'll look."

"We'll move her if necessary," Clark responded readily from the passenger's seat in the front, his expression glum. "It's the best place for her to stay until we can thwart Lex's plans. Besides, Lois will want to be by her side."

Oliver acknowledged his reasoning with a nod. "Did you find anything that might help us before I called you?"

Clark sighed. "Nothing. There's nothing that could give us some pointers in the apartment."

"My theory is that someone drugged her," Oliver voiced his thoughts aloud, wanting to know Clark's opinion of them. "And that made her see things that weren't there."

"I can still hear you, you know," Chloe snapped irritably from the back seat where they'd placed her. "And I didn't see things that weren't there. That girl is real and she needs my help."

The two men in the front fell silent, exchanging a wary glance before Oliver cleared his throat. "You're the only one who can see her. How do you explain that?"

"Well, I don't know, Oliver…maybe I'm crazy like everyone says I am!"

Clark took it upon himself to salvage the situation. "No one is saying you're crazy, Chlo. It's just that…you have to admit it's all a bit…_suspicious_."

Wrong thing to say.

"I'm not like my mom, Clark!" she yelled heatedly, making absolute silence descend upon them once again. Only this time, the air around them was so heavy with tension you could almost cut it with a knife. Oliver glanced at Clark who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but in the car at the moment before letting his eyes wander towards the review mirror. Chloe's facial expression was one of a person who knew they'd said too much.

"Are we just going to pretend I didn't hear that?" he prompted after almost a full minute of oppressive quietness.

"Maybe we should," Clark mumbled under his breath but Oliver ignored him, making sure Chloe saw the piercing look he was giving her through the small mirror above the car's dashboard.

She didn't speak for a few more minutes, twisting her fingers around each other nervously. Finally, she swallowed down her fear and raised her chin. "I told you before my mom left when I was a kid," she began slowly, waiting for Oliver to nod before she proceeded. "What I didn't tell you is that she didn't exactly leave willingly. She was committed to an asylum…that's why she left."

Oliver fought to keep his face impassive as he tightened his hold on the steering wheel. "What was her diagnosis?"

"I don't know...but whatever it was, it was serious."

"So, you _do_ have a history of mental illness in your family?"

She only nodded in response, her fear preventing her from speaking the answer out loud. Oliver observed her in the mirror; she had pulled her knees to her chin again, like she had in the hospital and he could see the apprehension on her face. He could almost hear her thoughts about how he was going to believe what everyone else did now, that she was going insane and that he would support the idea of throwing her into a mental institution. Her desolate expression made his chest tighten.

"I'm no expert by any means," he began calmly after a few moments, "but I do know that, while hereditary, most mental illnesses don't appear until at least the mid-twenties. And if it does begin earlier than that, it doesn't appear this suddenly or strongly. It takes up to a few years for the symptoms to fully develop," he stated what he had heard over the years. Science had never been his strong point but he knew the basics; he felt like he needed to get acquainted with the fundamental notions since Queen Industries funded so many research projects. "So, I don't think you're like your mom, Chloe and I certainly don't think you belong in Belle Reeve. But I'm _sure_ that someone or something is messing with your mind and I'm going to find out who or what it is."

He saw a smile curve her lips. "Thanks, Ollie."

Glancing sideways, he saw the corners of Clark's lips twitch upwards as well.

* * *

"How could you be so irresponsible?" Lois chastised as Clark and Oliver helped Chloe – although unnecessarily – onto her bed at the Talon.

"We couldn't risk Lex taking her to Belle Reeve, Lois," Clark said patiently as he smoothed his hand over the top of Chloe's hair. The latter smiled affectionately.

"Maybe he should have," the brunette snapped, making Oliver glare at her.

"Do you _really_ think that would help her?" he questioned in a hard voice, making Lois deflate before his eyes.

"No," she admitted resignedly. She'd heard stories, mostly from Chloe herself, about the kind of place Belle Reeve was and she could never send her baby cousin there with a clear conscience but she honestly had no idea what to do. "But what can we do that the doctors can't?"

"You can start by getting me some coffee," Chloe interjected lightly, "I was to have some before but my brave knight in shining armor was prevented from delivering it," she said teasingly as she looked in Oliver's direction. The latter just grinned at her words.

Lois' eyes widened dramatically, as if the comment alone made it clear her cousin was on the wrong side of kooky. "One triple-shot cappuccino coming right up," she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster before heading to the coffee shop below the apartment.

"Brave knight in shining armor?" Clark queried skeptically once Lois was out of earshot, making Oliver bite back a laugh.

Chloe sunk her teeth into her lower lip to prevent herself from laughing as well. "You had to be there."

Clark looked at her quizzically but before he could comment any further, Chloe suddenly jumped as if frightened, her eyes fixated on something neither man could see. "She's here," she whispered fearfully, her gaze lingering on a spot in the far corner of the room.

Clark sighed. "Chloe, you should get some rest…"

He stopped mid-sentence at Oliver's cautioning look. If they were going to figure out the source of all this, they needed to let Chloe guide them instead of trying to trump her visions. Clark understood the look and nodded, stepping aside as Chloe got out of bed and started walking towards the bathroom.

The two men followed her gingerly, keeping a safe distance until she gasped and whirled around, grabbing the sleeve of Clark's jacket. "She's behind the wall, Clark," she said hastily, her green eyes round with both fear and anticipation. She knew the girl was behind the wall and as soon as they saw it too, they would believe everything she had been saying.

Clark looked suspicious as he glanced at Oliver. The latter appraised the situation. From anyone's perspective, Chloe's words would seem impossible to believe but he'd told her he had faith in her. He also firmly believed that, even if her mother's illness was ingrained in her genetic code, it was not coming out to play just yet. Even if it was, Chloe had to know he would stand by what she believed was true and if that meant tearing down some walls, then so be it. He could pay for the repairs anyway.

He nodded. "The wall it is," he declared before putting the mirror that graced the wall down and retrieving a chair from the living area. Gathering his force, he charged at the layer of concrete and paint, making a large hole appear as the furniture made contact with the wall.

He gave it a few strong kicks with his feet afterwards, discarding the chair in the process. As the debris settled down, he couldn't quite mask his expression of shock. Tucked away safely between the layers of the wall was a skeleton, a female one by the looks of the dress it wore. A bright green light immediately shone through the room, emanating from the bracelet the body wore and Oliver saw Clark instantly double over before scrambling out of the room.

He rolled his eyes. The Boy Scout really had a weak stomach.

"Looks like you were right," he spoke as he felt Chloe step closer. If he hadn't before, he believed her _now_.

She nodded numbly, observing the body with curious eyes.

"I should call the cops," he said after a moment, "and check on Clark. Wouldn't want him passing out from shock."

With one last encouraging squeeze to her shoulder, Oliver stepped out of the bathroom. Now alone, Chloe slowly made her way to the skeleton and pressed her fingers against the green rock adorning the bracelet it wore. She felt a sudden jolt pass through her as soon as her skin made contact with the surface of the jewel.

* * *

"What do you mean _she's gone_?" Oliver hollered into his phone, drawing looks from everyone in the precinct.

After they had found the body in the wall, Oliver had wasted no time in calling 911 and, after having reassured them it was no prank call, the sheriff and deputy had arrived to the scene. A little while later, he was asked to come to the precinct to give his testimony. They had wanted to bring Chloe in too but Oliver had refused to drag her into more traumatizing experiences so Clark and Lois had taken her to the farm.

Oliver had by now answered all of the questions the police had asked him and was on the phone with Clark, who was frantically telling about how Chloe had escaped through a window.

"She escaped, I have no idea why," Clark repeated with annoyance. "I'm at MetU now. I thought maybe she went to her dorm."

"How the hell did you get to MetU so fast?"

"I…broke the speed limit."

"Huh?"

"Never mind that, we need to find her. I have no idea what she's up to."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Well, we wouldn't have to worry about that if you'd just _kept an eye on her_."

"Yeah…I'll call you back," Clark said as if something else had commanded his immediate attention and Oliver felt his temper flaring.

"Clark, don't you dare hang up on - "

_Beep_.

Oliver fought the urge to slam his cell phone against a wall as he heard the line being disconnected. The only thing stopping him was the sheriff's scrutinizing eyes on him. He knew he'd never get out of this station if he started throwing tantrums.

He took a deep breath before exiting the precinct and getting into his car. He sped away in the direction of Metropolis. Apparently, that's where all the fun was at.

* * *

It was barely half an hour later that Clark called him again. He didn't even have the chance to come up with a snappy greeting before Clark was speaking rapidly. "She's in Smallville."

Oliver's face grew somber at the words. "You said she was in Metropolis," he hissed through gritted teeth as he lowered the speed he was driving at.

"I said she _may_ be in Metropolis," Clark corrected, "She's in Smallville, an orderly from the hospital has her. He's the guy who killed the girl we found in the wall, her name is Gretchen," he spoke a mile a minute and Oliver had to pay extra attention to even understand what the other man was saying.

"How on Earth do you know this?"

"Just…just trust me. 7530 Laurel Avenue. That's his address," were Clark's parting words as he hung up on Oliver again, making the blonde take a deep breath in order to keep himself calm. And here he thought the boy scout was raised to have manners.

Typing the address into his GPS with angry strokes, Oliver turned the car around sharply over the rain-soaked, slippery road and headed back in the direction he'd come from.

The ride to the orderly's house took longer than expected and Oliver barely waited for the car to skid to a halt before he jumped out of the vehicle and headed for the gates of the house in front of him. He found the front door open and barged inside but could find no one on the ground floor.

He concentrated on calming his heart and the pulsing in his ears – a technique he'd refined in the time he'd spent training for his vigilante duties – and listened to the sounds around him. Underneath the steady thud of the rainfall and the creaking of the old house, he could hear hushed voices coming from beneath him.

_The basement_, he thought triumphantly and broke into a run, finding the staircase leading to the room easily enough. He ran down the stairs as fast as he could, only to be confronted by a rather anticlimactic sight. Chloe and Lois stood in the middle of the room, with tear stains on their faces and pieces of cloth hanging from their wrists as an orderly Oliver remembered seeing at the hospital laid in a pool of his own blood on the floor. And right next to the two women, was Clark.

"_How_ are you here?" Oliver asked bewilderedly, making Clark shift uncomfortably.

"I, uh…drove really fast."

Oliver looked at him like he might have lost his mind. Clark was at MetU a little over an hour ago, he couldn't possibly get here in his old Dodge truck that quickly. Besides, Oliver didn't even _see _said truck in front of the house.

He shook his head slightly, choosing to ignore Boy Scout's apparent ability to cross distances in the blink of an eye. It was not his business to meddle in and besides, he had more important matters to attend to.

"Are you okay?" he prompted as he came to stand in front of Chloe, his eyes inspecting her for possible injuries.

She smiled at him. "I'm fine," she assured, rolling her eyes as he took her chin between his fingers and pulled her face from one side to the other, searching for wounds that weren't actually there. "Really Oliver, I'm not hurt."

He accepted her reassurance with a sigh and dropped his hand. He only managed to hold his concern in check for a split second. "Are you_completely_ sure you're okay?"

He heard Lois grumble. "I'm okay too, thanks for asking."

"I'm completely fine, Ollie," Chloe reassured once again and Oliver couldn't help but smile at the use of that nickname she'd started calling him. He might get used to it.

"So, what happened here exactly?" he questioned as his smile wore off, looking pointedly at the lifeless body of the orderly on the ground.

Chloe sighed deeply. "That's a _very_ long story…which I will only tell over the biggest cup of coffee you can buy me."

* * *

Chloe basked in the sunshine as it flowed over her face, enjoying the warmth it brought. It had been almost a full day since the events that had transpired in the orderly's house and after having been questioned by police officers and friends alike, she had finally found the time to sit down for a nice cup of coffee with Oliver.

They went to the same café they'd occupied after Lionel's trial, over a year ago.

She had finished the retelling of her story, giving Oliver some details she had omitted to the police, like being possessed by Gretchen's spirit, for example.

"It's nice to see you relaxed again," he commented as he sipped on the coffee Chloe had forced him to buy. He tried to make it a decaf but she would have none of that nonsense.

She grinned, her eyes shining with contentment in the sunlight. "I'm just glad it's all over," she admitted softly. "And that Gretchen finally found peace. It was so hard on her to be trapped all those years."

Oliver nodded. The whole spirit thing had been extremely unsettling for him in the beginning but he found himself more than willing to believe everything Chloe had said about the ghost after a while. He stipulated it was because it finally brought him the reassurance that his own parents were out there somewhere, watching over him. And as hopelessly emotional as that sounded, it gave him some sort of solace. Speaking of parents…

"You said your mom was committed to an asylum," he spoke after a while and witnessed her previously carefree expression evaporate. "Do you know which asylum?"

"Yeah," she whispered almost inaudibly, her gaze glued to the cup in her hands.

"But you never went to visit her?"

"No."

"Why not?"

She heaved a deep sigh. "I just…don't want to."

He was quiet for a few moments, deliberating on what to say next. "Look, Chloe…I don't want to sound accusing and I certainly don't mean to pry into your personal affairs but…I _know_ that if it was my mother, I'd do anything to see her, even she wasn't in the most perfect state of mind."

Chloe lifted her eyes to his slowly and he could easily see the unshed tears swimming there. "I know I should see her," she said regretfully, "but I'm afraid that I'll look into her eyes and see my own reflection staring back at me."

He pursed his lips. He could probably say something along the lines of 'there's no way you'll end up like her' but he knew Chloe was too intelligent to simply believe that. "You're a smart girl, Chloe so there's no point in sugarcoating it. We both know there's a chance you'll develop the same condition your mother has and that's certainly a heavy burden to live with but you always struck me as the kind of person who takes the bull by the horns, faces her fears head on and all that. So what gives here?"

Her lower lip quivered slightly and she shook her head helplessly, unable to come up with any semblance of a response.

"If it'll give you a peace of mind, I can have one of my labs run a genetic screening from your blood cells," he offered after it became clear she wasn't going to speak, "They'll look for known markers of every mental illness under the sun and tell you for certain if you are at risk."

"And what if they do find something?" she dared to ask and Oliver surprised her by shrugging.

"Then I'll make sure you have a team of the most renowned specialists work on a treatment while you enjoy the view from Star City's most beautiful penthouse," he replied lightly, as if the answer were the most obvious thing in the world. She felt like hugging him again.

"I'll think about it," she finally conceded to the possibility of a genetic screening. "And…I'll go visit my mom. I think it's about time I confronted that part of myself," she added before sighing. "Can we talk about something else now?" she then pleaded, desperate for a change of topic.

He obliged readily. "Sure. There is actually something important I wanted to address…I seem to clearly recall you calling me your knight in shining armor…"

She rolled her eyes as he went on with outrageous claims about his nobility and chivalry. Of course, she would forever deny giving him that label and, while Lois and Clark had witnessed the moment, she knew they would back up her side of the story if need be. Still, she figured it was only fair to let him have his moment of glory. So she laid back into her chair, sipping on her coffee and listening to Oliver's endless boasting.


	12. In the Skin of Merry Men

_A/N: So, the real fun finally begins. I am kicking off the season 6 rewrites with 'Wither', with a bit of retrospective on Dark Thursday; I thought about writing a full installment for the 'Vessel'/'Zod' arc but it would be way too short and lack any good Chlollie interaction so I just added a flashback here. Also, I have nine rewrites planned for this season so far...I might even make that ten._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy this new installment in the series :)_

* * *

_Summary: Set during 6x03 'Wither'. Following the events of Dark Thursday, Oliver relocates to Metropolis and his first mission in the new city is to convince Chloe to be his date for the benefit Lex is hosting at the Luthor mansion._

* * *

**In the Skin of Merry Men**

Chloe sighed as she pushed the grates of the elevator aside and was greeted with the sight of a – naturally – shirtless Oliver in the middle of a handstand.

He'd called her that morning to tell her he was in town and asked her to pay him a visit in his newly purchased, highly expensive penthouse. She figured she could squeeze in a few moments with him before running off to help Clark again.

"You know, after having seen how you apparently greet all your lady friends, I'm not sure why this surprises me," she quipped instead of a greeting, cocking her head to the side as she observed the wonderfully firm, magnificently sculpted…posterior part of his anatomy. She shook her head and cursed herself for always befriending impossibly handsome men.

He chuckled as his legs touched the floor and he turned around to face her with a grin. "One would think you'd be used to it by now," he agreed with a small nod to which she rolled her eyes.

"What, you're not even going to give me a hug?" he asked after she didn't move any closer. "Come on, you know you want to," he coaxed her smugly, outstretching his arms in order to maximize the dramatic effect. She didn't look impressed.

"Not when you're all sweaty and sticky, I don't," she refused, her nose scrunching in distaste.

"Some argue that it's my best look."

She shrugged disinterestedly. "People will do or say just about anything for the right amount of money."

"Ouch," he said with feigned hurt and felt that familiar sense of enjoyment that made an appearance whenever he was on the receiving end of Chloe's snark. He couldn't help but think that made him perverted on some level…masochistically perverted.

"Oh, I'm sorry…did I bruise your fragile little ego?"

His eyes narrowed with purpose. "I will get you to hug me, Sullivan," he warned and she barely had the time to register his intent before he was approaching her in fast strides. She squeaked impulsively and broke off into a rather clumsy run across the living area of his penthouse, making him bite back a grin. He had to admit she looked adorable as tried to make an escape in her rather high heels.

He chased her around his desk, across his yoga mat and behind the couch, keeping a deliberately slow pace because he felt something akin to childish excitement as he chased her. They both had to look absolutely ridiculous doing this.

They circled each other with the coffee table between them as Chloe tried to come up with an escape route. There was no way she was going to indulge his boyish games, especially games involving his sweat getting smeared all over her pricey outfit.

She was momentarily distracted by pondering on her possible ways to make an escape and Oliver took the opportunity to jump over the small table separating them in two quick steps, subsequently bringing his arms around her and squeezing her to him. She yelped in both surprise and horror, trying to wiggle her way out and only managing to further rub her cheek against his sweaty chest. Finally admitting defeat, she let her body sag against his, making him grin in victory.

"I told you I was going to get that hug," he said cheerfully, causing her to huff in annoyance.

"You're such a child," she admonished, "A spoiled one at that."

Her words only seemed to make him more proud of his accomplishment as he eased her away from him slightly. He grinned when he saw her nose scrunch in apparent revulsion; she was really adorable when she did that.

She raised one of her hands to her face and hastily wiped the glistening imprint his chest had left on her cheek before proceeding to wipe that same hand against the back of his couch. He could swear he saw a glint of satisfied vindication in her eyes as she did it.

"This would have been way easier if you had just given me that hug willingly," he pointed out, making her eyes narrow.

"Zip it, rich boy."

"Oh, I like it when you get all bossy."

She let out an exasperated breath. "Did you ask me to come here just so you could annoy me or was there actually something important you wanted to tell me?"

His grin dimmed slightly. "I just wanted to see how you were holding up after Dark Thursday," he replied sincerely, making her expression soften at his concern.

"You know I'm fine."

"A five minute phone conversation isn't all that reassuring, you know," he remarked, soliciting a massive eye roll from her.

Dark Thursday had been a day of extreme chaos for both of them, Chloe especially. Oliver had been in Star City when it happened, having finally assembled what he hoped would make a functioning team of heroes. They were all getting to know each other, relaxing with pizzas and drinks when the news of the horrors happening in Kansas broke.

He had immediately told Bart to super speed to Metropolis while AC zigzagged through various rivers to get to the site. He and Victor had boarded his jet shortly after, but his pilot refused to go any further than the Colorado-Kansas state border, claiming it would be too dangerous to attempt venturing into Kansas. They decided to make the rest of the journey by car while Victor monitored the situation through Queen Industries' satellites, the only ones who still appeared to be functioning. Oliver had been extremely grateful to Victor in that moment, since it was his cyborg recruit that had upgraded the satellites and made them immune to whatever was damaging all the other ones.

"_I've never seen anything like this before," Victor muttered as he analyzed the signal that was trying to breach the satellites' protection, "It's some sort of virus but…I mean, it's too complex for anything mankind is capable of making."_

_Oliver frowned as he kept pushing the gas pedal to its limits. "So, what are you saying? That it's not man-made?"_

_Victor hesitated before responding. "I think that would be about right. Although, maybe it was somehow boosted with meteor rock…that could account for its weird encoding…theoretically."_

"_We'll figure it out later," Oliver instructed as he took a sharp turn and almost made Victor fly out of his seat. "How is the situation in Metropolis?"_

"_It's getting worse," Victor informed him darkly as he scanned through the satellite images at high speed. "The riots are getting more violent, buildings are being destroyed, cars are flying around…it's a mess."_

"_Then we better get there as fast as we can," Oliver concluded with determination, trying to keep his worry in check. From the moment he'd heard the news, all he could think about were his friends who were right in the middle of the catastrophe. He was especially worried about Chloe. He could only hope Clark would find a way to keep her, Lois and his mother safe._

_Some minutes passed before Victor's eyes widened in shock. "The military's satellites are back online," he said as he processed the information, "but…they're receiving some sort of signal…and amplifying it…they're reflecting it back to Earth…"_

"_What sig -"_

_Oliver's words were cut short as the ground suddenly began to shake, causing the car to swivel violently. He hit the brakes hard, only barely managing to stop before they drove off the road._

_Both men exited the car quickly, feeling the quakes slowly but surely moving it towards the ditch by the side of the highway._

"_Since when does Kansas get earthquakes?" Oliver shouted bewilderedly as both he and Victor jumped into the ditch for shelter from possible debris._

"_It doesn't," Victor yelled back, "I think the signal is causing it!"_

"_Can you make it stop? Override it or something?"_

"_I'm trying but…Oliver, I have no freaking idea what this is!"_

"_That makes two of us," Oliver muttered as the ground kept shaking, making him feel like his brain was hitting the inside of his skull._

_Then, everything stopped. Stillness settled around them, making both men exchange surprised looks._

"_Why do I get the feeling your skills had nothing to do with this?" Oliver asked as he took in Victor's shocked expression._

"_The satellites stopped transmitting the signal," the latter said slowly as he accessed the servers once more, "I have no idea why. The other satellites are coming back online too…"_

_Oliver nodded before getting to his feet, pursing his lips as his eyes fell on the crushed pile of metal that was once his car. "That's two fine cars gone because of Kansas shenanigans," he observed as he remembered the meteor shower he'd witnessed a year ago. Those events immediately steered his thoughts back to Chloe and he turned to Victor. "If the satellites are up and running again, does that mean the cell towers are functioning again too?"_

_The other man nodded. Oliver wasted no time in fishing his cell and dialing Chloe's number. Of course, he knew the chances of her having her phone with her were slim but it was worth a shot._

"_Come on, pick up, pick up…" he pleaded as he waited for her to answer. He was about to give up when the line connected._

"_If it isn't my favorite billionaire," she greeted, sounding like she was slightly out of breath and, most of all, relieved._

"_You're alive," was his response as his eyes drifted shut for a moment, feeling relief course through his own body._

"_Did you actually think a little thing like the world ending would be the death of me?"_

_He chuckled, finally feeling like he could let go of the constant state of dread he'd been in since hearing the news. "Of course not. Is everyone else all right?"_

_She paused at the question and he could hear her quiet sigh. "I'm not sure," she finally replied, her tone low and somber. "I don't know what happened to Lois and Mrs. Kent, I have no idea where Lana is and…I'm not sure if…" hre voice hitched slightly as the words refused to make it past her lips, "I'm not sure if Clark is even…alive."_

_Oliver sighed deeply. He really didn't like to think about anything happening to Boy Scout. Despite his prudish and righteous ways, he was quite fond of the guy. "Clark's tough…probably more than I gave him credit for," he tried to reassure her. "He'll be fine."_

"_I hope so," she said before taking a deep breath, "Listen, I have to go. We'll talk later."_

"_Sure. Just call me if you need anything."_

Oliver had wanted to finish the journey to Metropolis but his presence was needed back in Star City. After getting the reassurance he needed from Chloe and making Bart and AC promise they would help everyone they could, he'd arranged for a car to be brought to where he and Victor were before taking off to rejoin his pilot in Colorado.

After returning to his hometown, he spent hours analyzing images from his satellites, trying to figure out what the hell had happened. He noticed newly formed craters all over the globe but there were no meteorites spotted on the night of Dark Thursday. The signal Victor had mentioned he was unable to understand also kept him up at night. There was something really dark happening in Kansas and it seemed to be focused in and around Smallville. And whatever it was, Oliver was determined to get to the bottom of it. Lex's new hobby of creating suspicious and secretive facilities also made him restless. With all those worries plaguing him, he concluded it was the perfect time to focus some of his attention on the QI branch in Metropolis. He purchased the Clocktower a couple of days later.

"I e-mailed you after the phone call," Chloe reminded him, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"You e-mailed to tell me everyone was alive...and that was about it. Still doesn't make for an actual conversation."

She sighed before dropping onto the couch. "Fine," she conceded, "what do you want to know?"

"Like I said, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he repeated as he joined her on the couch. She raised an eyebrow at his still bare chest.

"Could you put a shirt on, Casanova?"

He smirked at the faint redness that began coloring her cheeks. "Why, is my sweaty chest tempting you?" he teased smugly, making her arch an eyebrow.

"Yes Oliver, I want to lick you like a popsicle," she deadpanned. "Can you put that shirt on now?"

_I wouldn't mind it if you did_, he thought impulsively before his eyes widened at the dirty workings of his own mind. Where had that one come from?

He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly before reaching for his previously discarded shirt and putting it back on. "Happy now?"

"Extremely," she said flatly before cocking her head to the side. "Lo told me you stopped by the farm earlier."

He nodded, thankful for the change in topic. If they had lingered on the previous one any further, he would start having images of Chloe licking –

_Right, changing course_, he reminded himself. "Yeah," he replied, "I wanted to give Mrs. Kent her check in person. Of course, I hadn't counted on Lois making a huge show of pretending I was the mailman and trying to give me a tip."

Chloe laughed, having heard the story from Lois already. Her cousin assured her the look on Oliver's face had been priceless. "That's how Lois gets her fun."

"I thought she got her fun by torturing Clark?"

"Well, that too. But when Clark's not around, she has to make do with what she has."

"Charming."

"It's a family trait."

"So I've noticed," he agreed before biting his lip. "I have a favor to ask you," he said suddenly, making her eyebrows draw together in confusion.

"What kind of favor?"

"You know that LuthorCorp benefit for the victims of Dark Thursday that's being held tonight?" he asked and waited for her to nod before continuing. "I need you to be my date."

"What?" she exclaimed, wondering if all the billions had finally managed to destroy any functioning brain matter he might have had. "Can't you just take one of those bimbos you have at your beck and call?"

He made a face. "I don't feel like talking to any of them."

"Well, I can't go with you. Why don't you take Lois?"

"First of all, putting Lois in the same room as a bunch of highborn bureaucrats is a disaster waiting to happen and second, why can't you come with me?"

She had to concede to his views of Lois in such an environment. "I have…stuff to do."

"Stuff like what?"

"Well uh…see, I'm helping Clark…with a story. I found a body at Make Out Point last night and we're looking into it."

His eyes narrowed. "What is Make Out Point and why were you there?"

She exhaled in annoyance. He was just like Clark. Was it really so inconceivable for everyone in her circle of acquaintances to believe she could actually have someone to trade saliva with? "The name is pretty self-explanatory and as for what I was doing there, it's none of your business."

"I want his name, current address and social security number."

"And that's exactly why you won't be getting as much as his initials," she countered, her eyes narrowing as well. "I already have one overprotective big brother, Oliver. I really don't need another one."

Still, he didn't back down. "I just want to make sure he's not using or pressuring - "

"Let me stop you right there," she cut in, halting his speech. "I do not want to hear about you trying to preserve my virtue or whatever. Besides, that ship has sailed a long time ago anyway."

"_What_?"

"Again, none of your business."

"When did this happen?"

"Is it really that shocking?"

"Well…"

"Seriously? Why does everyone think no guy could ever want to take my clothes off?"

"Uh…well, I…it's not that I…think _that_ but…I mean, I never heard you talk about a boyfriend or anything, except for…wait, it wasn't Clark, was it? Please tell me it wasn't Clark."

She shook her head. "If you must know, it wasn't Clark. It was the same guy I'm seeing now, actually."

"Wait, you're recycling used goods? Oh, Chloe…"

"You know what, that's it," she said as she rose to her feet and snatched her purse with fervor, heading for the elevator.

"Chloe, wait!" he called out as he got up as well, coming to stand in front of her. "Look, I'm sorry," he apologized but she refused to look at him, instead choosing to fixate her eyes on the bookshelves. "I didn't mean to…pry," he went on with his amends, "I just don't want to see you get hurt by some guy who doesn't deserve you, that's all."

She slowly brought her eyes back to his. "I can take care of myself."

"I'll give you that but it never hurts to have some back-up, right?"

She smiled slightly at that before nodding. "Only if you promise to behave."

"I promise."

"Then I forgive you for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Isn't that what you do all the time?"

"Don't push your luck."

"Okay," he relented, raising his hands in surrender. "So, about you being my date…"

"That's still not happening."

"Oh come on, Chloe…please? I'll beg if that's what it takes."

"I have to help Clark and - "

"Have him team up with Lois on this one," he suggested, hoping she would give into his ideas. "They can spend some quality time together while the two of us cause havoc in the Luthor mansion."

She bit her lip as she considered his words. It would be nice to have a night off, especially in Oliver's company. She always enjoyed spending time with him. Besides, they already had enough information on the murdering half-woman, half-plant…it wasn't like Clark needed her to research it further.

He started to smile as he watched her ponder the possibilities, sensing she was going to go along with his plan. Finally, after a couple of minutes of deliberation, she nodded. "Fine, I'll go with you to the benefit."

He grinned in victory, making her roll her eyes at his unnecessary excitement. "So, what are you dressing up as?" she asked, knowing the benefit was a masquerade ball.

"Robin Hood."

"Really?"

"He's my childhood hero."

"I should have known," she muttered. "So, I suppose that makes me the Maid Marion for the evening?"

"Mm-hmm. Just e-mail your size to my secretary and she'll have the costume sent over to you."

"That won't be necessary. I'll get my own costume."

His eyes narrowed at her words. "You're planning something sneaky, aren't you?"

"Always," she said brightly before heading for the elevator once again. "See you tonight."

* * *

Chloe couldn't help but chuckle at the expression on her best friend's face as she put the finishing details on her costume.

"Lighten up, Clark," she told the brooding alien.

"You sentenced me to spending _hours_ with Lois," he retorted, "How do you expect me to lighten up?"

She rolled her eyes at his dramatics as she turned towards the mirror. "I don't care what you say, I know you actually _like_ being around Lois."

He scoffed. "I really don't."

"Well, then consider this as me owing you a big favor that you can cash in on at any time."

"_Huge_ favor," he corrected grumpily. "Chloe, I'm not sure if this is a good idea…I mean, we're chasing an _alien_ woman-plant."

"And we know electricity is the way to go about killing her," Chloe pointed out as she slid her mask on. "Lois can handle a little action, Clark. And if you actually need to use your superpowers to get rid of the extraterrestrial _femme fatale_, just make sure Lo isn't around."

"She's _always_ around."

"Then knock her out," Chloe said simply, making Clark's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

"You're actually giving me permission to knock your cousin out?"

Chloe shrugged. "She's already been hit on the head more times than any of us can count. What's one more blow added to the list?"

Clark shook his head slightly before his eyes wandered up and down her costume. "Does Oliver know what you're dressing up as?"

"He _thinks_ he does," she said with a smirk. Clark smiled at her antics but the fleeting moment of glee was cut short as Lois' voice reached his ears.

"Come on, Smallville!" she shouted from outside the small apartment. "We've got work to do!"

Clark heaved a sigh of immense suffering before dragging his feet to the door. "The things I do for you, Chlo," he muttered as he made his exit.

Now alone, Chloe gave herself a onceover in the mirror, satisfied with her choice of attire. Oliver was in for a surprise.

* * *

Oliver sipped on his drink as he impatiently waited for Chloe to make an appearance. He'd offered to pick her up at the Talon but she'd refused, insisting he wait for her at the mansion. He'd complied with her request and was observing all the hypocrites and sycophants around him with little interest. His interest was momentarily piqued when he'd seen Lana Lang walk through the doors and join Lex. He'd taken a passing look at the tabloids and knew there was apparently something more than just platonic friendship blossoming between those two. Seeing them interact now only confirmed the rumors he'd read and heard. And this latest development definitely made him like Lana even less than before. He really wondered what went on in the girl's head.

He moved his eyes away from the crowd and towards the door, praying Chloe would appear soon and save him from the insufferable boredom. His prayers were answered a few minutes later as she appeared in the doorway. He took one look at her and his jaw dropped.

She wore fitting green tights and a vest in matching color, securing it at the waist with a large brown belt. She completed the look with combat boots, a quiver filled with plastic arrows strapped across her chest, a green hat with a red feather and a green mask that covered the upper half of her face. He couldn't help but laugh to himself. She dressed up as Robin Hood…_of course_ she did.

She spotted him across the room and grinned at the expression on his face before making her way further inside. He met her halfway and she twirled around, making sure he got a look at her costume from all angles.

"So, what do you think?" she asked with an unwavering smirk.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he nodded. "It definitely looks better on you than it does on me."

She clucked her tongue. "I know, right? I mean, a man in green tights? It raises some serious questions about your sexual orientation, if you ask me."

"Now, that's a stereotype," he objected. He happened to like his _form-fitting pants_. Because they were _not_ tights.

"Whatever you say, Ollie," she responded airily as she took off in the direction of the buffet table. She hadn't eaten all day and she was starving. He fell into step with her, smiling at the look of wariness that settled on her features as she observed the dishes on display.

"I get a distinct sense of déjà-vu," he mused as he watched her appraise and dismiss every single hors d'oeuvre on the table. "You had that same exact expression on your face when I first met you at Lex's wedding," he clarified when she gave him a confused look.

Her features morphed into a grin in understanding. "Oh yeah, I remember that one," she reminisced fondly. It seemed like such a long time ago…granted, four years were not a short time by any means but so much had changed since. Back then, she was just an overly curious sophomore in the corn capital of the world; now, she was in college, making her way up the Daily Planet professional ladder and playing sidekick for her super-powered alien best friend. A lot had changed indeed.

"You couldn't get them to fix me a sandwich this time around too, could you?" she asked jokingly, remembering how she'd devoured that sandwich like it was her last meal on this Earth.

"I'm sure I can arrange it if you really want me to," he said with a shrug.

"Nah, I'll just…pick out the least revolting thing they have here."

He snorted at her wry humor before assisting her in her quest for edible food. With their joint efforts, they managed to single out a few possible candidates and were working on narrowing the choices down further when they were interrupted by the benefit's host.

"Well, if it isn't Robin and…Robin," Lex spoke from behind, making them exchange a look before turning around to face their least favorite person. Chloe smiled uncomfortably as her eyes landed on Lana, who had Lex's arm around her waist.

"Lana, hey," she spoke with as much enthusiasm as she could muster but it sounded phony even to her own ears. She knew she had been the one to encourage Lana to pursue a relationship with Lex if she felt it was something she really wanted but it still made her uneasy to see them together, especially since Oliver was standing right next to her and she knew he wasn't a fan of either of them. Lana gave her a questioning look but decided against commenting about her odd behavior. Instead, she smiled politely.

"Chloe," she greeted warmly before turning to Oliver. "Mr. Queen," she said with far less warmth and he reciprocated in kind.

"Miss Lang," he spoke with a mocking smirk etched on his face. "And Lex, our gracious host. Nice turn out, old _friend_."

Lex mirrored Oliver's expression. "Oliver and I go way back. We were classmates at Excelsior," he explained for Lana's benefit. Of course, Chloe already knew that detail and while she didn't know exactly what had happened between the two men back then, she was certain they had never been fond of each other. She wondered what had brought on the ongoing grudge between the two.

"Speaking of our old school," Oliver went on, "there's a reunion coming up. I'm quite excited to see the old gang again, aren't you?"

Lex's stoic expression faltered for a moment and Chloe could swear she saw a flash of hatred in his eyes before he recomposed his features and his derisive smirk reappeared. "I simply can't wait. And I must compliment you both on your choice of costumes. Although, I have to say Oliver, I always imagined you as Maid Marion rather than Robin Hood."

"Nah, my legs are too scrawny to pull off a dress," Oliver commented lightly, even though his eyes were hard. "You on the other hand are rocking that skirt, buddy," he mocked Lex's mandatory Alexander the Great costume as he made a show of appraising the other man's bared calves. "Wax much?"

Both Chloe and Lana's eyes widened at the last remark. Chloe knew that if they didn't put an end to this soon, it would escalate beyond simply trading jabs at each other's manhood.

"Okay," she interjected loudly as she grabbed Oliver's arm, "we'll just go now. See you later," she said quickly as she began dragging Oliver away from the other couple, heading in the direction of the balcony. He trotted along without another word, following her lead. She stopped once they were outside and whirled around to face him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked, making him look away from her.

"Nothing," he mumbled as he stared off into the distance, hoping she would drop the subject. Obviously, his hopes were in vain.

"Look, I get that the two of you simply love to hate each other but do you really need to make it your mission to get a rise out of him every time you cross paths?"

Oliver seemed to be chewing on his own tongue for a while before responding. "I knew Lex before you did, Chloe. You don't know half the things I do."

She raised an eyebrow at the statement. "Yeah, you've seen what he's capable of, I remember," she said as she recalled the conversation they'd had in the Talon almost three years ago. She pursed her lips as she mulled over what she was going to say next. "Whatever it is that you've seen explains why you don't like him…but why does he hate you?" she asked bluntly, causing Oliver to finally look at her in surprise. He hadn't been expecting that kind of question.

"He has his reasons," he said at length, not wanting to get into details about his less-than-admirable days at Excelsior.

She looked at him in disbelief. "Really? That's all the explanation you're going to give me?"

"You don't need to know the details."

"Fine," she snapped, "Don't tell me, I don't care anyway. And this has definitely been a fun night, although I think I would have probably enjoyed a walk in the woods with a killer plant on the loose more than your little testosterone stand-off back there. See you around," she added as she headed towards the balcony's entrance, eager to leave.

"I was a bully."

His voice made her stop dead in her tracks and she slowly turned back around. He didn't move to face her but rather kept his back to her as he went on. "I was the leader of a gang of bullies, actually…and Lex was our favorite victim."

He had her undivided attention now. "What did you do to him?"

She heard him sigh deeply. "We mocked him constantly _and_ publicly more often than not…we stole the baseball cap he used to hide his baldness with every other day and made him chase us to get it back…that kind of stuff."

Chloe was silent as she took his words in. She never would have thought, not in a million years, that Oliver would have been that kind of person years ago. And at the same time, this new revelation made her feel sorry for Lex. "Wow," she finally let out, "I did not expect that."

He chuckled without a trace of humor coloring the sound, still not quite daring to face her. "I'm not proud of what I did back then, Chloe," he admitted regretfully, "I…had issues and I took them out on other people."

She nodded slowly. "I can understand that," she said after a few moments. "I was hurting a while back and lashed out in a very bad way…and other people got caught in the crossfire. People I actually cared about."

He seemed stunned by her confession, finally craning his head around to look at her. She smiled ruefully at the expression of shock on his face. "One of these days, I'm going to give you all the details of what _exactly_ had led to my involvement with Lionel a few years back," she promised, remembering how she acted like a petty, jealous fool and launched a chain of events that almost ended in her death. It was a mistake she would never repeat.

Oliver frowned at her words. He knew she had gotten herself in trouble with Lionel and he knew it had all stemmed from some sort of involvement the two had had. Still, he never learned the reasons that had led her to making an alliance with Lionel in the first place.

"The important thing is that _you_ have changed," she went on encouragingly, "and that Lex apparently hasn't."

"Oh, he's changed…just not for the better."

"Did you ever try to make peace with him?"

"Once. After my little stay in the middle of the Pacific, I went to Lex and proposed we bury the proverbial axe. He wouldn't hear of it and that was it."

"That does sound like Lex," she agreed before biting her lip. "What do you say we ditch all this drama and head to the Talon for a nice cup of coffee and anything I might have to eat in my fridge?"

"Sounds good," he said, closing the distance between them and putting an arm around her shoulders as they started walking back into the mansion. "Although, maybe we could squeeze one dance in before we go."

"The last time I danced with you, I ended up impersonating Jennifer Grey in front of my entire school," she reminded him.

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy it."

"Well, maybe just a little," she conceded and he squeezed her shoulder affectionately in response.

He twirled her around on the dance floor as they crossed it a few times just for the heck of it, ignoring her protests altogether.

"So, I have a question for you," she said lightly as they waited for their cars.

"Ask away."

"Why Robin Hood?" she asked curiously as she inspected the arrows in his quiver. Unlike the ones she'd strapped to her own back, these were the real deal. She lightly trailed her fingers over the pointy edges as she waited for him to respond, sensing there was something vaguely familiar about these arrows. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

"Well, I was always a fan of the 'taking from the rich and giving to the poor' mindset," he replied, raising an eyebrow at her look of concentration as she played with his arrows. "Plus, I liked that he was an outlaw…the freedom of it. It really appealed to me when I was kid since I felt trapped by my family's heritage. I wanted to rebel. And I did, just…not in a good way."

She chuckled at his words, having finally given up on trying to figure what the arrows had triggered in her subconscious. It would come to her eventually.

They both rode in their own cars to the Talon and made their way to the apartment upstairs, only to be surprised into stillness in the doorway.

Lois was sprawled on the couch at an odd angle, holding an icepack to her head, as Clark hovered nearby, looking extremely guilty.

Chloe almost laughed. So he _did _have to knock her out.

"Smallville," her cousin mumbled groggily, "I think I hit my head harder than we thought because I see two jolly green men standing in the doorway."

"Thanks for making me question my femininity, Lo," Chloe commented dryly before moving to sit next to her cousin's legs. "What happened?"

"The psycho lady we were after knocked me out," Lois grumbled, shifting so she could get a clearer view of Chloe. "As much as I hate to admit this, Clarkie saved the day."

Chloe chanced a look at her friend, who seemed extremely transfixed by a smudge on the couch's armrest. "He usually does," she commented, making Clark smile the slightest.

"Also, your boy-toy is in the hospital," Lois added as an afterthought, making Chloe's eyes widen.

"What?"

"Don't worry, he's fine," Clark reassured her. "She tried to kill him, but we got to him in time."

"Oh yeah, Jimmy's a tough one," Lois supplied derisively, snorting to herself like a lunatic.

The name caught Oliver's attention. "Jimmy, you say? Tell me more."

Chloe groaned. "Not now, Ollie."

"He's Chloe's new boyfriend," Clark said, apparently oblivious to Chloe's wishes of _not_ broaching the subject. Oliver positively beamed at the other man.

"Well, then I think you and I have a lot to discuss, Boy Scout," he said as he clapped Clark's shoulder strongly, making the alien grow understandably wary.

"What exactly do we have to discuss?"

"It's endearing how obtuse you are sometimes. We need to discuss all the different strategies that need to be put in place in order to protect Chloe, of course."

Chloe buried her face in her hands as Lois giggled loudly. "Now I understand why your love life is so terribly nonexistent," the brunette commented, causing Chloe to whine in misery. She dreaded the day when Jimmy would find himself in the same room with both Oliver and Clark.

"Smallville!" Lois shouted unexpectedly after a few moments, making Clark jump like a frightened rabbit. "Make me some popcorn."

"I'm right here Lois, you don't have to yell," he grumbled but complied with her request and began rummaging through the cupboards. After having knocked her out the way he had, the least he owed her was a nice batch of popcorn.

"Ah, movie night," Oliver declared with a merry clap of his hands. "Excellent."

Chloe turned her head toward him sharply. "Who invited you?"

"You did," he reminded her, "At the mansion."

"Right, and you promised me you'd behave at the penthouse," she pointed out, "Since you apparently don't intend to keep your promise, I am withdrawing my invitation."

His face fell. "Sorry."

She sighed. She was probably fighting a losing battle by trying to keep everyone from meddling in her affairs. "I'm accepting the apology only because I know there is no point in arguing with you."

Clark announced the popcorn was ready shortly after and they spent a good fifteen minutes trying to figure out the sitting arrangements. Oliver took dibs on sitting next to Chloe but Lois protested, stating that if anyone was going to cuddle with her cousin, it was going to be her. Clark then objected, pointing out that he and Oliver could not share the – albeit large – armchair without both of them being uncomfortable. Lois still didn't back down and after a bickering of grandiose proportions between the brunette and the alien, Clark ended up sitting on a cushion on the ground next to the couch occupied by the cousins, while Oliver got the armchair all to himself.

In the spirit of the blondes' costumes and due to Oliver's persistence, they settled on a Robin Hood inspired movie.

* * *

Later in the night, after she had sent both Oliver and Clark on their way and helped Lois stumble into bed, Chloe finally got the chance to remove her costume, sighing in bliss as she changed into her comfortable pajamas. She was quite fond of the ornate green mask she had purchased to complete her costume and decided it would be best if she put it away in her little 'box of trinkets', as she liked to call it.

It was a large wooden box inside which she had stashed a wide array of objects she'd found intriguing and had become attached to.

As she lifted the lid, her eyes caught the arrowhead she had placed in the box some years ago. That's why Oliver's arrows seemed so familiar, she realized. Their tips were very similar to the one she'd found in Evan's field during her junior year of high school.

Of course, it would be ridiculous to assume her little keepsake had come from one of Oliver's arrows as well.

Shaking her head slightly, she placed the mask inside the box and closed it shut. She would have to get up earlier than usual in the morning if she wanted to visit Jimmy in the hospital. Shameful as it may be, she was having too much fun with her cousin and the boys to bother with visiting that night. She couldn't help but think this made her a bad girlfriend.

She sighed as she closed her eyes, figuring a heartfelt apology would be enough to ease Jimmy's mind. She soon fell into a light slumber, weaved here and there with odd dreams of her and Oliver in their costumes, chasing the sheriff of Nottingham through the fields of Yorkshire.


	13. In the Den of Thieves

_A/N: So...guess who's back? It's been like...well, nine months or so since I updated this series, and for that I apologize, but I have made a promise to see it through and I will be keeping that promise. I mean, we might all be gray and wrinkly by the time it is actually finished, but it will be done. _

_That said, I hope you enjoy :)_

* * *

_Summary: Set during 6x04 'Arrow'. When a masked thief with an apparent love for archery hits Metropolis, Chloe feels there's more to him than meets the eye._

* * *

Oliver watched his business associate walk away with a frown.

"Remind me again how Chloe convinced me that bringing you here would be a good idea?" he asked his rather blunt and outspoken companion.

Lois shrugged. "You needed a pretty face on your arm. Chloe is busy and I had nothing better to do tonight."

He gave a small grumble of acknowledgment, knowing those were Chloe's exact arguments almost word for word.

As the main contributor to Mrs. Kent's senatorial campaign, he was required to make an appearance at the event, preferably with a date in order to keep it true to the image he had painted of himself. His main reason for attending had very little to do with his public persona, though.

Still, he would have preferred to be in Chloe's company rather than her cousin's. Lois was not dull or unpleasant by any means but he felt like Chloe would have at least extended him the courtesy of not insulting his – admittedly corrupt, sleazy and hypocritical – business partners so forwardly. Then again, maybe not.

"So, how many of these baldies' wives have you slept with?"

The nonchalantly asked question made Oliver sigh. Apparently, very few topics were off-limits in Lois' mind.

Mrs. Kent climbed on the stage to begin with her speech and Oliver sighed again, this time from something akin to relief. Now the fun could _really _begin.

"I'll go get us some drinks," he said casually to make an excuse for his sudden disappearance. "This might get long."

* * *

As he stood in his penthouse's living room and silently watched Lois deal with the head of SafeTex Security in her own unique way, Oliver couldn't help but think he should have been more insistent about bringing Chloe along to the fundraiser. He was pretty sure _she _wouldn't have snatched his family ring right off his neck.

"…so don't blame _me _if you let a boy scout with an archery badge crash his party."

"A boy scout with an archery badge?" another voice echoed the words as the elevator grates screeched.

"Now that's a first."

"If what he does is steal valuable objects for his own benefit, I don't think he can really be called a boy scout," her companion complained, making Oliver roll his eyes.

"Don't worry, Clark," he said easily as he approached the arriving party. "You're still the only boy scout we hold dear in our hearts."

Clark went to complain again but Chloe spoke up before he could get a word in, narrowing her eyes at Oliver. "It's just like you to get my cousin in the path of a trigger-happy, William Tell wannabe on the _one _night I leave the two of you unsupervised."

"How is this _my _fault?"

"Don't bother arguing," Clark advised.

Chloe nodded as if to support this piece of advice before finally noticing the unfamiliar man in the room.

"And who are you exactly?"

"This is Lionel's handsomely paid head of security," Lois explained before the man in question had a chance to introduce himself. "I'd say those few millions were well wasted on Luthor's part."

"Right," Oliver said when the head of SafeTex looked like he was seconds away from strangling Lois with his bare hands, "I think your work here is done. I'm sure you can see yourself out."

He nodded begrudgingly, not bothering to bid anyone goodbye on his way out.

Chloe tilted her head to the side as she watched the elevator grates close and the box begin to lower.

"He's such a ray of sunshine, that guy."

"I wouldn't be too perky if I were in his shoes either," Lois commented as she rose from the couch. "You try telling Satan you've let some guy in green tights steal one of his shiny trinkets with a smile on your face."

"Good point," Chloe agreed as her nose scrunched; she knew well Lionel was not a man you would want to anger. "I have to say, though, this guy in green tights certainly has a flare for the dramatic."

Oliver did his best not to smirk too widely.

"Snatching the necklace in the middle of a political fundraiser," Chloe mused further, biting her lip. "It's almost like he's trying to make some sort of statement."

"I don't care what point he's trying to make," Clark joined in, looking rather displeased. "We need to get that necklace back. I don't want my mom to be indebted to Lionel."

Oliver frowned at the words. "Then maybe she shouldn't have accepted his donation for the fundraising," he commented a little sharply, causing the others to raise their eyebrows at him. He sighed. "All I'm saying is, I could have covered all the costs," he said. "She didn't have to involve Lionel."

"You know she would never accept all that money from you," Clark countered darkly. "You're contributing to her campaign but that doesn't mean she's one of your charity causes."

"That's not what I meant," Oliver began to protest, forcing Chloe to play the peacemaker.

"Settle down, boys," she chided calmly. "No one meant to offend anyone. Can we go back to the more pressing issues now?"

Oliver obliged with a nod while Clark grumbled his consent.

"Good," Chloe said with satisfaction. She turned to her cousin. "Did you get a good look at the jolly green man, Lo?"

Lois made a face. "Not really," she had to admit. "It was dark, and he had a hood and sunglasses." She smirked as she added, "He did look like he'd just come off a GQ cover, though. Those arms…"

Clark rolled his eyes while Oliver bit his lip to mask his smile.

"So, our masked thief is a Greek God in green leather," Chloe deadpanned. "Good to know."

Oliver couldn't help it; he snorted. When all eyes went to him, he raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry," he laughed.

"We should go to the Daily Planet," Clark suggested, eager to steer the conversation back to its rightful course. "Dig up everything we can on that necklace's history. My guess is something shady will pop up."

"You got that right, Boy Scout," Oliver agreed, piquing everyone's curiosity. He shrugged. "Well, if you kids had paid attention these past few weeks, you'd know that about half a dozen of Metropolis' big shots reported some of their valuable artifacts missing."

Chloe's eyes narrowed. "Metropolis PD's scanner is my favorite FM, and I didn't hear anything about it."

He grinned. "Ah, but I didn't say they reported it to the _police_. These valuables, they weren't exactly bought at market value. And, when you know all the targets were SafeTex clients, I think it's obvious why grumpy face was in such a sour mood earlier."

"And how do _you _know this?" Chloe asked.

"Well, I _am _one of Metropolis' big shots now," Oliver pointed out. "I know things that would make your reporter-self salivate like a puppy with a juicy bone, Sullivan."

"Billionaires," she grumbled. "Okay, big shot, if what you say is true, then our thief has a very specific agenda." She bit her lip in thought. A moment later, she squared her shoulders. "All right, troops," she commanded. "To the Daily Planet we go."

* * *

It was nearing daybreak and Chloe was still at the Planet, researching away. Oliver and Clark were long gone, and it was just her and Lois now.

They hadn't found much, but Chloe didn't let that deter her. She was, after all, a puppy with a juicy bone.

"Chlo?" Lois called to her, from where she was perched against the desk behind Chloe's.

"Hmm?"

"Since we are both reporters…" she began and Chloe rolled her eyes. Lois' newfound love for journalism was as endearing as it was amusing, and Chloe couldn't quite tell whether it would last or if her cousin would move on to new interests. She had now written only a couple of pieces for the Inquisitor, which was not exactly what Chloe considered to be journalism of any value. Still, everyone had to start somewhere. And now that this green thief with a penchant for archery had entered the scene, Chloe surmised Lois would have much more interesting story material than a flying barn door.

She whirled in her chair, facing her cousin. "Yes?" she prompted, beginning to smile.

Lois bit her lip. "Are you like…my competition now?"

Chloe had to laugh. "Lo, please…" Her eyes narrowed when her cousin still looked uncertain; Chloe knew her better than most and she could see Lois was simply dying to tell her something. "You know more than you said, don't you?" she guessed and Lois' guilty look proved her right. "Okay, spill."

"I don't know, cuz…"

"Oh, come on, Lo. Look, I promise I won't steal your thunder. I swear it on my favorite mug. Let me help."

It was all the convincing Lois needed. "Okay," she agreed excitedly, jumping off the edge of the desk and reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a ring; a simple silver band, as far as Chloe could tell.

"I snatched this off our perp, before he zipped up the elevator shaft," Lois explained, dropping the ring into Chloe's palm. The latter turned it over, studying it carefully. "Something's engraved on the inside," she observed, noticing the faded mark. "You can hardly see much, but I can snap a few high-res pictures, run them through a couple of softwares…"

"Whatever you say, Chlo."

Chloe grinned, twirling her chair again to dig her new camera up from her bag.

A minute later, her head was freefalling towards her desk. The last thing she felt before slipping into unconsciousness was a gloved hand keeping her head from hitting the hard wood at full speed. Her cheek met the desk gently as everything went dark.

* * *

Oliver clutched the ring he'd just recovered as he stood in the Clocktower. At least he had retrieved it before Chloe could gather any actual footage of it; he knew she would have taken very little time to discern the pattern on the inside, given the chance. He did dislike having to drug her in order to keep her from it, though; in his defense, he had made sure she didn't get a big bump on her head out of it.

His eyes turned to the framed picture in front of him. He gently set the ring down – his father's ring – and took hold of the picture instead. He was doing this for them, first and foremost. They had both been great philanthropists, he remembered that much; he had been too young at the time, to really understand the meaning of helping others, and even as he grew older, it still eluded him. After his stay on the island though, he had gained clarity. He didn't care if he broke the rules; a corrupt system didn't exactly allow for justice and he would not let that stop him from giving it to the people in need. He just hoped his extracurricular activities wouldn't put those close to him in danger as well – and by them, he mostly meant Chloe.

"I can't believe he got the drop on us," Lois lamented the following morning. She and Chloe had been having their morning coffee in the Talon when Oliver had dropped by. He wanted to make sure they were alright. The gas he had used on them hadn't exactly undergone its final testing.

He sat down with them, listened to their own account of the previous night's events, while pretending they were a surprise, and had to keep himself from laughing when Lois complained about how a thief in green tights – tights, of all things! – had bested her. Her, a General's daughter! It was now personal, she declared.

Her article on the subject had already been published in the day's edition of the Inquisitor, which Oliver was currently perusing with a raised eyebrow.

"The Green Arrow Bandit," he read as Lois went to refill their mugs. "It doesn't exactly roll off the tongue."

Chloe chuckled. "I'd drop the 'bandit'," she said. "But hey, it's not my story."

_Green Arrow_, Oliver thought. He liked that one. Besides, it suited his alter-ego better; he was no bandit. Lois had just interpreted the situation in a very wrong way. It was starting to worry him a bit, he had to admit.

"Are you sure you shouldn't take over the reins?" he suggested. "Lois is a rookie in the big, bad world of journalism…and she's also not what one might call 'subtle'. She could get in trouble…_a lot _of trouble."

Chloe frowned. "First of all, I would _never _steal Lo's story," she stated, obviously offended by the mere suggestion. He raised a hand in surrender, making her sigh. "But I am worried," she admitted.

"This…Green Arrow guy, he's bad news."

"You really think so?" he asked impulsively, regretting the question as soon as it had left his mouth. It really shouldn't bother him that Chloe thought poorly of his vigilante persona; he had expected such reactions from people. It still stung…just a little bit.

She didn't seem to find his query odd. "Well, not _him _him," she amended. "It's the people he crosses. All these rich tycoons, they are not exactly the type to play nice. And if Lois gets too involved in that mess…"

He knew he shouldn't smile; he still did. "So, you don't think the Green Arrow is" – he looked back at the article to find the exact phrasing – "an unscrupulous criminal with no moral compass?"

She bit her lip. "I don't know," she said. "It just…seems too simple to paint him that way. I mean, he's not exactly killing or maiming people, right? And besides, those things he stole? I looked into them more closely last night, after he absconded with the ring." She was getting excited, her eyes begging to spark with the thrill of her discoveries. Oliver's smile widened. "Turns out, they were _already _stolen," she went on. "One of them just made its way back to the Louvre and, my guess is the others will soon be found in their motherlands too. _And_," she added with meaning, "I've tracked no less than _three _massive anonymous donations to various charities, coinciding with the dates of the robberies."

She shrugged. "If you ask me, he sounds less like a hardened criminal and more like your childhood hero," she commented with a crooked grin. "Take from the rich, give to the poor, with a bow and arrow on top."

His smile slowly faded as he just stared at her. It was all he could really do; just stare.

Her previous grin turned into a frown. "Ollie?" she prompted in confusion, making him shake his head with a start.

"I, uh…" he stuttered. "I just…" He forced a chuckle. "Well, you really are good at what you do, Chloe."

She still seemed confused but accepted the compliment with a pleased smile. "The _best_," she corrected.

"Chloe!" Lois shouted from across the room, making most of the patrons – few as they were – jump in fright. "The coffeemaker's broken again!"

Chloe sighed. "Third time this week," she muttered, rising out of her chair. Oliver certainly welcomed the distraction the faulty coffeemaker provided, steering Chloe away. He didn't quite know what to make of her discoveries. On the one hand, he felt a deep sense of gratitude; it seemed no one understood him better than Chloe, both as Oliver Queen and as 'Green Arrow'. On the other hand, she was getting too close to the truth. It made him worry about her even more than before.

* * *

That night, he infiltrated Simon Westcott's residence. There was one last artifact he needed to return to its rightful place.

He zip-lined to the rooftop, picked the lock to the stairwell and made his way to the highly-secured room he had studied on the schematics, made available courtesy of Victor Stone's super-computer hacking skills.

Entering the room, he aimed at the center of the laser movement detectors. The shot was perfect and the previously crisscrossed pattern spread out, giving him a clear path to the stone bust and invaluable, ancient Egyptian necklace in the middle.

He removed the jewel carefully, wrapped it with even more care, then he pocketed it gently. He spun around and there stood…_Clark_?

"That doesn't belong to you."

Oliver felt annoyance override his shock. Clark and his self-righteous ways had been grating on his nerves for quite a few years now.

"Well, actually, it belongs in the Museum of Cairo," Oliver said lightly, thankful for his voice distorter.

"I'm just returning it." He began to move, meaning to simply walk past the Boy Scout; the latter stopped him with a firm hand on his chest. Oliver slowly raised his head. _Don't make me hurt you, Clark_, he thought irritably.

"It's not your place to decide what belongs where," Clark said sharply. "And it's not your place to take the law into your own hands, either."

_You asked for it_, Oliver concluded, moving to swing his fist into Clark's face. His shock returned when the other man blocked the blow easily, meeting his fist with his hand, and keeping it there. The Boy Scout was…strong; _t__oo _strong.

Oliver took a step back, reaching for his crossbow. "You shouldn't meddle with things you don't understand," he cautioned, releasing the trigger on a taser-arrow.

Clark caught it. Mid-air. The tip crackled with the electric charge but Clark simply held it, staring at it with a look of mild confusion.

Oliver's jaw promptly dropped. The Boy Scout was stronger than men should be, was completely unaffected by high electric currents and, if Oliver remembered correctly, also took inordinately short amounts of time to get from one place to the other. He had thought it weird, when Clark had been hopping from Metropolis to Smallville in less than an hour during Chloe's crisis with meteor-fueled ghosts, but he didn't linger on the idea. Now, however, he was certain that Clark Kent was much more super than the average farmboy.

_Clark's meteor-infected? _He thought wildly. Next thing he knew, he was being sent flying through the air with force, crashing on his back and triggering the alarm. He scrambled to get to his feet, succeeding in the task just in time to see an armed guard appear behind Clark. He took his aim quickly, releasing another taser-arrow. The guard – thankfully, all human – took it in the shoulder, dropping to the ground as his body convulsed with the current.

Clark rushed to his side and Oliver took the chance to slip through the window, making his way across rooftops and through alleys as quickly as he could.

Even as he lay in bed later, his mind still raced. He still couldn't quite believe it, that Clark _freaking _Kent had a whole set of superpowers. Of course, it was plausible, he supposed; the Boy Scout did grow up in Smallville. Oliver was just as surprised as he was annoyed, really; not only because the self-righteous farmboy-wonder had so much more firepower than he did, but also because he didn't _use _it. He could do so much with his powers, what with being fast, strong and untouchable; he still chose to linger in the shadows, not offer his services to the public and lament his love life. It made Oliver…annoyed.

He wondered if Chloe knew. He supposed she likely did. His parents had to know, probably. Then, he wondered if Lana knew and if that was the source of their on-again, off-again relationship. He wondered if Lois knew. If Lex knew. If members of his own semi-functional team knew; they had, after all, had encounters with Clark in the past. He wondered if everyone _but him _knew.

He suddenly – and unjustifiably, he would admit – felt completely left out.

* * *

He spent the next day brooding. Locked up in his penthouse, he ignored calls, texts and all other forms of attempted communication. Everyone could do without him for a day. The necklace he had taken was locked away in his secret room and he spent his time working on the most inconspicuous way to return it to the Museum of Cairo.

That was what he busied himself with for hours, while trying his hardest not to think about Clark and his superpowers, until Victor called. And he kept calling.

He ignored the first five calls but when Victor persisted, he had to pick up. Chances were there was trouble on the horizon.

"Is the world ending again?" he asked instead of a proper greeting.

"Well, that depends," Victor said. "On a scale from one to apocalypse, where would you put someone hacking your most secure QI satellites?"

Oliver immediately straightened in his seat. "Someone is hacking my satellites?"

"Yeah," Victor confirmed, "and they're…pretty good at it. Honestly, if you hadn't told me to go through all your cyber security with a fine and super-powered comb, no one would have noticed. And uh…well, it's not just the satellites…"

"What do you mean it's not just the satellites?" Oliver raised his voice. "Wait, someone's been hacking the QI database?"

"Mm-hmm. From what I can see, they weren't accessing any sensitive information, but it's still a big breach. And they've been at it for like, a year."

Well, now he was just getting angry. "And _no one _noticed? What do I pay my IT guys for?"

"In their defense, the hacker's wickedly crafty," Victor countered. "I've traced their trail, though." He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "The IP address is from Smallville. The Talon, more precisely."

Oliver stilled. _Chloe_, he thought immediately. _Chloe has been hacking my system_.

He felt both outraged and oddly impressed at the same time.

"Are the satellites being hacked right now?" he queried flatly. When Victor gave an affirmative, he asked, "Can you tell what for?"

"Your hacker seems to be tracking a phone," Victor informed. "Give me a moment and I'll see whose." A moment came and went and Victor let out a surprised gasp. "It's registered to Lois Lane."

Oliver blinked, then he ran a weary hand over his face. Lois had gotten into trouble.

"Is Chloe having any luck with tracking the phone?"

Another gasp came from Victor. "Chloe's the hacker?"

"Did you really not see that one coming, Cyborg?" Oliver deadpanned.

"Uh…well, I suppose there weren't many other possibilities," Victor conceded. "And she's not having much luck, I think," he added. "The phone pings back to the Talon and it hasn't moved. If she's actually _looking for _Lois, then I don't think Lane has her phone with her."

Oliver sighed. "Since you're already next to a keyboard, do me a favor. Find the name of the head of SafeTex Security and track _his _phone."

"You think he has Lois?"

"I'd bet on it," Oliver muttered darkly. "I've been hitting his clientele, Lois is the number one go-to girl for the Green Arrow now…I'm pretty sure they think that, if anyone knows something about me, it's her."

"Hmm. So, are you sticking with that one? Green Arrow, I mean."

"Well, she calls me the Green Arrow _Bandit_," Oliver amended. "But I'm taking Chloe's advice and dropping the 'bandit'."

Victor made a small noise of acknowledgment as he worked. Some minutes later, he spoke again. "Got the signal, putting a trace on it," he informed. "I'm sending the feed to your phone."

"Thanks, man," Oliver said as he disconnected the call. He sighed again, quickly changing into his gear. It seemed he would have to rescue Lois.

He followed the signal to an abandoned warehouse on the city's outskirts – because, really, where else would the shady folk take their victims to – and entered the building cautiously, crossbow at the ready. Three men blocked his path but he incapacitated them quickly, sticking to the shadows as he made his way down a long corridor, to where he could hear sounds of a struggle.

A large room came into view. Two men held Lois down, forcing her head into a water tank, while the head of SafeTex fired questions at her. The questions were about the masked thief, of course. Oliver had to remind himself that he wasn't a murderer and that he couldn't just aim for their throats.

"That's no way to treat a lady," he nearly growled at the assembled men, raising his bow. He had loaded it with tranquilizer-laced arrows and fired two in quick succession, hitting the two who had Lois pinned down. She fell backwards along with them, unconscious.

Oliver turned to the remaining man. He figured a more personal approach was needed for this particular specimen of the evil and corrupted. He lunged forward, delivering blows to the man's stomach first, then his chest. When he heaved from lack of breath, Oliver kicked him in the knee to force him down.

"I think I'll just leave it to your bosses to snap your neck," he commented before backhanding the man across the face with his crossbow, knocking him out.

He took a deep breath to calm himself before turning his attention to Lois. He checked her pulse, finding it to be strong. Allowing himself a momentary sigh of relief, he loaded his crossbow with a different kind of arrow, picked Lois up and brought her bound hands around his neck as he straightened. He aimed upwards, shooting a zip-line through the opening in the badly-patched ceiling.

As they rose through the air, he was oddly reminded of Chloe's comments on his white knight syndrome and constant quest for damsels in distress. Not that he would ever call Lois a distressing damsel; just one who threw caution to the wind too often, kind of like Chloe herself.

He was still mad at her. It felt like betrayal, all that hacking she had been doing. He knew Chloe kept secrets, of course, and never prodded much when it came to the subject; he trusted her. He also knew she had a tendency to sneak her way through things. It was still unsettling.

He paced the rooftop as he waited for Lois to wake up, trying to compile a list of all the possible things he could say to Chloe once he confronted her about her occasional dabble into his private databases and costly technologies.

When Lois began to stir, he crouched down next to her. She blinked in disorientation, rubbing her forehead, but her eyes widened when she spotted him. He leaned in closer. "Are you okay?"

Apparently, she was more than okay. She grabbed his head, rolled them both over so he ended up on his back, and snatched his crossbow in the process. She scrambled to her feet at the same time he did, but she held the advantage.

"I saved you," he said irritably.

"Yeah, from goons who were trying to find _you_," she countered.

"Well, you _did _start it," he pointed out. "No one made you chase this story and get in over your head, Lane. Did no one ever tell you to stick to your own sandbox? Like, say, the flying barn doors that predict our future enslavement by aliens?"

"Funny," she deadpanned. "Did the humor come with the costume?"

"Did the Tomb Raider routine come from wanting daddy's attention?"

That genius quip nearly earned him the loss of an eye. Lois pulled the trigger on his bow, and the arrow missed his head by an inch. His eyes narrowed behind his shades. Well, that was just crossing a line.

"Guess my aim's a little rusty," Lois commented with a shrug, beginning to advance towards him slowly.

"Why don't we just make this easy, tough guy, and remove those glasses of yours?" she said, already raising a hand to his face. "See who's really beneath the tacky leather?"

His hand slowly went to his back, where he kept a little stash of tranquilizer-arrows tucked into his utility belt. He grabbed hold of one and, just as Lois made to pull off his shades, he swung his arm in a wide circle, hitting her in the shoulder. He then had to duck to the side quickly, as she instinctively pressed the trigger again. The crossbow fell from her grasp after that, as her body went limp, and Oliver caught her before she could tumble to the ground with force. He shook his head as he laid her back down, retrieving his crossbow as he straightened.

He reached for his phone next, the untraceable one, and typed in Chloe's number.

It only rang once before she picked up. "Who is this?" she asked right off the bat.

"The Green Arrow," he said simply and was certain he'd heard her drop something on the other end of the line. He nearly chuckled. "I have Miss Lane here with me," he went on, glancing at Lois' unconscious form. "You might want to send someone to pick her up."

"What did you do to her?" Chloe demanded sharply and Oliver had to roll his eyes.

"_I _didn't do anything, other than save her," he retorted. "You should tell her to be more careful," he advised next. "Getting in the crosshairs of people who work for the likes of Luthor and Westcott isn't exactly the best way to stay alive."

Chloe was silent for a moment but he did hear her breath hitch with worry. He sighed. "She's fine," he reassured. "Just unconscious. I'd apologize for knocking her out but she did try to poke my eye out with my own bow."

He was certain Chloe was smiling now. "Well, word of advice to _you_," she said lightly. "Getting in _Lois Lane's _crosshairs isn't the best way to keep both your eyeballs."

"I think I've learned my lesson," he replied dryly. He gave Chloe the address next, telling her she should probably alert the cops about the unconscious goons down below, too. He was pretty sure she would be sending Clark on this little mission. After giving her all the info she needed, he made to disconnect the call.

"Wait!" she said quickly. "Um…any chance you would…uh…be willing to meet me on the Planet's roof?"

He blinked in stunned silence. "Why?" he asked cautiously after a moment.

"I just…well, I'd like a quick face-to-face. And…see what all the fuss about you is." She chuckled lightly. "I actually feel a bit left out of the loop. And I don't like it."

Oliver chuckled as well; Chloe and her curiosity. "Okay," he agreed at length. "Planet rooftop in twenty?"

"Deal."

"See you there, Sullivan."

* * *

He already stood on the roof's far end when Chloe arrived.

She took a moment to simply observe him. He was facing away from her, clad in his infamous green leather. A quiver was strapped to his back and two different bows at his hip. Chloe had to admit that Lois was right about the arms.

"Thank you," she spoke first. "For saving my cousin."

He turned around slowly, acknowledging her words with a small nod. She bit her lip, taking a few steps closer. He didn't move an inch as she approached, coming to a stand right before him. The hood hid his face in shadows and his black glasses covered his eyes; Chloe could only discern a small portion of his jaw.

"You know who I am," she commented after a pause, recalling their conversation on the phone. He had known her number, her last name and that she was Lois' cousin.

"Miss Lane made a point of painting a target on my back," he said, his voice low and distorted. Chloe had to applaud him on all the steps he'd taken to conceal his identity. "I made a point of learning everything about _her_," he went on. "One can never be too careful in my line of work."

"Ah, the hard life of a vigilante."

"So, I'm a vigilante now?"

"Well, it depends on whom you ask," she conceded. She bit her lip, then sighed. "Okay, so I'm probably the only one who wouldn't call you a thieving crook right now."

She couldn't be sure but it seemed like he smiled at her words. "I tend to look in places most don't," she added with a shrug. "So, I know the fair city of Metropolis isn't where you've made your _entrée en scène_. Star City has this urban legend, about an elusive stranger in the night they call the Emerald Archer." She raised an eyebrow. "And he likes to rescue old ladies and bust drug cartels for kicks. He's a bit of a hero, really. And well, Emerald Archer, Green Arrow…it's not that hard to connect the dots." She grinned.

He was quiet for a long while, neither denying nor supporting any of her facts with a reply of any sort. Chloe sighed; apparently, he wasn't one for chit-chat. "Anyway," she spoke again, "I'm pretty sure you're not a bandit. More like…a noble thief. But Lois won't start seeing you that way anytime soon," she added more seriously. "She'll keep coming after you, trying to find out who you really are – especially after tonight. So just…be careful."

Again, he was silent for quite some time. Chloe seriously began to wonder if he was even listening to her. It was why she jumped a little when he did speak. "You'd be willing to help derail your cousin's journalistic debut?" he queried. "Don't you want to know who I am, too?"

"Believe me, the curiosity is _killing me_," she said with a deep sigh of immense suffering. "But," she added, her eyes going to the city's skyline for a moment, "it has been my experience that heroes are best kept in the shadows." She brought her gaze back to his hooded face, smiling a fraction. "Lo can always find another story."

He nodded. "Thank you," he said simply.

She didn't think there was much else to be said, so she settled for shrugging the gratitude off. The gesture made him chuckle; a deep, throaty sound that made Chloe curse her attraction to men with a propensity for heroics. There was something about this particular member of the club, though; she couldn't quite tell why, but the way he behaved – the way he spoke and held himself – felt just a bit too familiar.

He began walking backwards, reaching for one of his bows and still grinning at her. "See you around, Sullivan," he said before turning around and firing a zip-line from the roof's edge, making the wire tie itself in a circle on a pole of the opposite building's top. Chloe had no idea how he had managed that.

He went out of sight then, having jumped off the edge. Chloe gasped in horror instinctively, hurrying towards the edge and looking over. He was – in lack of more suitable terms – _flying _through the air, suspended by the wire he held on to. He braced his feet against the building's façade to break his momentum and Chloe blinked in shock when the zip-line seemed to be folding in on itself inside the crossbow, propelling him upwards.

She watched as he ran over rooftops, actually _jumping _over the smaller gaps in human acrobatics that made her own body flood with adrenaline just by witnessing them. And she was certain he was nothing but _human_, this Prince of Thieves, as Lois called him. Her eyes tracked him as his form grew smaller and smaller in the distance, and she was suddenly reminded of a very old conversation she'd had with her favorite billionaire.

A small motel room, an e-mail friendly killer on her heels and a silly declaration by Star City's golden boy. _Me? That's easy_, he had said. _I want to be a superhero_.

Other things had been said too, little jokes to pass the time. About his hypothetical superhero persona's penchant for a costume of the green variety – and made of leather, too. She remembered talk of gadgets as well. _Zip-lines, voice distorters, night-vision glasses_.

She had made a passing comment on how he would certainly be able to afford it all…kind of like he would be able to afford thousands of dollars in donations.

She thought of the arrowhead she kept in her trinket box, the one from Evan's field, and the arrows that had intrigued her in his quiver on the night of Luthor's Dark Thursday masquerade ball.

Robin Hood, the original Prince of Thieves, was his childhood hero.

The Emerald Archer had left Star City and reappeared in Metropolis.

Her eyes went to the Clocktower, where it stood above the other buildings in the distance.

Oliver was the Green Arrow.


	14. In the Shadows of the Past

_Summary: Set during 6x05 'Reunion'. Chloe finds herself in the middle of Oliver's very deadly Excelsior reunion and learns a thing or two about his past in the process. _

* * *

**In the Shadows of the Past**

Chloe had a strong feeling Oliver was avoiding her, just as she was avoiding him. They were simultaneously avoiding each other.

While she knew her reasons for said avoidance, she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out _his_. It annoyed her that he would avoid her for undisclosed reasons – and she fully admitted to being a hypocrite in this situation – but she also took it as a blessing. After all, if he avoided her, it made it all the easier for her to avoid him.

_Yes, that makes perfect sense_, she thought as she stared at her computer's screen in the Planet's basement.

Chloe Anne Sullivan was not a coward. She was also not foreign to the ways of men who had super-secret identities on the side. She was, in fact, best friends with one such man – well, _two_ such men, evidently, but Oliver was a recent discovery. She was also well-versed in situations where she was the only party to have made the discovery, without the object of said discovery's knowledge. It was, again, how she had come to be aware of Clark's super-secret. She had seen him catch a car, speed away in a blur, and kept quiet about it, swearing not to mention it in any way until he felt comfortable enough to tell her himself. Of course, he hadn't had much of a choice in the matter, seeing as she had been in the process of freezing into a Sullivan-flavored popsicle in the middle of the Arctic and had had no choice but to tell him she already knew about his ability, if only to make him get her out of that ice cave faster.

Her hand being forced in revealing her knowledge aside, the fact remained that she knew how to deal with these things…which begged the question of why she couldn't bring herself to even _text_ Oliver, much less speak to him. As much as it pained her to admit it, she didn't have the guts to face him.

It wasn't even that difficult to reconcile his two personas. The playboy billionaire and leather-donning vigilante were, at first glance, absolute opposites but Chloe knew Oliver better than most; for him to choose to become Green Arrow actually made sense to her, in a strange sort of way. Well, _mostly_ made sense, anyway. She really couldn't _fathom_ why he would choose bows and arrows, of all things, as his weaponry of choice.

_Honestly, Ollie_, she thought. _Archery?_

His odd choice of weapons – and style, too – aside, the Green Arrow made sense for Oliver. She was well over the shock of it by now, a week having gone by since her inadvertent discovery. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to exchange as much as one word with him.

* * *

Chloe was avoiding him.

Not that he wasn't avoiding her in turn, but he had _reasons_ to avoid her, and they were damn good reasons, too. She had been hacking his system, the very heart of his company, for a year. As unbothered as you please, just helping herself to whichever information struck her fancy.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Victor had told him no truly sensitive information had been accessed and corporate espionage was eventually ruled out – and Oliver actually felt guilty for even letting the idea enter his mind – but the question of _why_ still remained to be answered. Really, he couldn't think of a good reason for her to resort to sneaking through cyberspace instead of just going to him personally. If she wanted to know something about QI's public projects, those she had apparently accessed information about, he would tell her. If she wanted access to his satellites, he would give it to her.

He spent a week avoiding her, not quite sure how to confront her. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to hear what she had to say either, be it lies or the truth. He was not above admitting, if only to the far recesses of his subconscious, that he was afraid of learning that Chloe wasn't really the friend he thought she was.

Still, there came a point where he couldn't ignore it any longer. So, a week after he had last seen her on the Planet's roof, he made his way to the building once more, using the door this time.

The sudden silence of the basement was what alerted Chloe to something being wrong. One moment, the noise was deafening; the next, one could hear a pin drop.

Her eyes rose from the screen and she almost squeaked. Oliver Jonas Queen, billionaire CEO and bow-totting vigilante, stood right before her, his mouth pulled into a tight smile that Chloe associated more with a grimace.

"Hi," he said flatly.

Chloe gulped. "Hi," she echoed, casting furtive glances to the side. Everyone had stopped in their tracks, observing the blondes with curiosity. This was not going to help her reputation, she thought. Miss Kahn still thought she and Oliver had had a clandestine affair when she had first begun interning at the Planet. His showing up out of the blue at the workplace was really not helping her case any.

His head tipped to the side. "After a week of radio silence, is that really the best you've got?"

He almost sounded like he was taunting her, and Chloe frowned. He'd never been this particular brand of cold with her. She wondered if maybe he knew she knew. Not that there was any way for him to know she knew. And if he did know she knew, one would think he'd try and be nicer to her, lest she expose his jolly green ass to the world.

She cleared her throat, getting a bit riled up herself. "I could ask you the exact same thing," she retorted.

He actually smirked at her. _Smirked_.

"Well, then we've got some catching up to do, don't we, Sullivan?" he spoke again, his tone just as stilted and unnerving as before. "How about I buy you a cup of coffee?"

"Uh…" was her intelligent response.

"Great," he went on, as if she had accepted. "And would you look at that, it's lunchtime. Perfect."

She raised an eyebrow. She didn't quite know what to make of his tone now, but it sounded like the brooding vigilante's equivalent of chirpy sarcasm.

_Chirpy sarcasm is my thing_, she thought sullenly, even as she nodded and grabbed her purse. The sooner they moved this, albeit odd and rather one-sided, conversation away from prying eyes, the better.

He gestured for her to go first, playing the gentleman, but the excessive flourish he added to the gesture made her think it was yet another part of this sarcastic routine he had going on.

They walked past her coworkers in silence, as they did everything else until they reached Metro Café down the block. She took a seat while he went inside, resisting the urge to chew on her thumbnail as she waited for him to return with their coffees.

Five minutes later, he was there again, depositing a tall cup in front of her. Under different circumstances, she would have smiled at the fact that he had gotten her favorite without being given the order.

He set his own cup on the table, settled in the chair opposite her, leaned back in his seat, clasping his hands in his lap, and just stared at her.

That was it. He just watched her with unsettlingly scrutinizing eyes. It was making her start to fidget.

"So," she began, hoping to finally break the silence and his staring, "how've you been?"

He seemed to be chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment then clucked his tongue. "Well, I did have an interesting week," he said. "I sat through a few surprisingly lively board meetings, discovered a new Thai place, learned that dolphins may just be more intelligent than humans, and spent an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out why my snarky blonde _friend_ has been hacking my company's system for the past year."

Chloe promptly choked on her coffee. She coughed and wheezed, finally managing to squeak, "What?"

"Mm-hmm. Now, my IT department is apparently very overpaid, but I do have one competent computer nerd on my payroll."

Gnawing at her lip, Chloe slumped in her chair. "Oh," was all she could say.

"Oh?" he repeated sardonically. "You know, Chloe, I never associated you with monosyllabic retorts, but then again, this has been a week of surprises, hasn't it?"

_That it has_, she thought wryly, getting her bearings together. His voice sounded harder now, its bubbly sarcasm nearly gone.

"I don't know what you're thinking," she said after a moment, "but I'm not some sort of corporate spy or whatever it is that billionaire CEOs have to contend with. I really only did for…practice."

"Practice?"

She gave him a meek shrug. "I had to hone my hacker skills somewhere."

When his previously impassive expression began turning into a scowl, she quickly added, "Not that I'm making light of any of this…or that I'm not sorry. I…I was picking up some tricks as I went, and I had to test them someplace, and well, I figured your system was the only one with solid enough firewalls to even be a challenge, and that you might be more forgiving than, say, the NSA or the FBI – or Lex – if I ever got caught…"

He remained stony-faced as she babbled nervously. "But I guess I did get caught and you don't look very forgiving," she hedged quietly after a moment. "I'm sorry," she said, hoping he'd see she was sincere. She had always planned to tell him, not really expecting any of his IT folks to actually catch her trail. It wasn't like she'd delved too deep, either. She would never compromise the really sensible parts of his servers, and she hadn't even given the firewalls surrounding _those_ a try.

Before she had the chance to explain it all, though, Oliver spoke up. "A lot of people have used me for many things over the years, Chloe," he said. "Money, fame…_access_."

The suggestion actually made her feel affronted. "You know, I didn't actually _need_ us to be close to hack your databases," she snapped. "And do you really think I befriended you while I was in _high school_ just so I could get into your system years later? I think you got that chain of events a bit backwards, _buddy_."

She almost regretted her tone when his face fell and he didn't even look angry anymore, just hurt. He was quiet for a time, too, his lips pressed together as he seemed to be thinking his reply over. "All I'm saying is," he began after a minute, "you could have chosen to _stay_ friends with me because of the potential benefits, rather than…" His voice trailed off, shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug.

"The pleasure of your company?" she offered and, although he had his eyes firmly trained on his hands, she still caught the way his mouth quirked at the corner for a second. "Trust me, Oliver," she went on, "being friends with you has more potential inconveniences than benefits." His eyes rose to hers and he frowned in confusion. "My editor still thinks I'm sleeping with you," she informed. "Or used to, at least."

Despite everything, he presented her with a crooked grin. "That actually is one of the potential benefits, Sullivan."

She rolled her eyes and firmly kept her mind from straying into dangerous territory.

"I still guarantee a minimum of three hours," he said next and she had to laugh, remembering the oldest conversation they'd had in the Talon and the way they had made Clark blush to the roots of his super-hair.

"Once a mindless playboy…" she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. As his grin widened, her own smile grew softer. Biting her lip in hesitation, she slowly made her hand rest on the table, opening her palm for him to slide his own into. He eyed her hand for a moment, his smile disappearing, but soon raised his own and let it fall into hers.

"I'm sorry," she said again, all trace of teasing gone. "I know…I know my sense of…well, _boundaries_ has never been commendable, but…I would never do anything to jeopardize you or your company."

She squeezed his fingers lightly, letting her thumb draw circles on the back of his hand. His eyes followed the movement, not meeting hers. "I know how much your parents legacy means to you," she went on, "and _you_ mean a lot to _me_, so I would never do anything to put it at risk."

He was smiling again and his fingers squeezed back. "The files I hacked," she explained further, "they were already public knowledge, or were about to be made public knowledge. I only scraped the surface. And if anyone ever figured out what I was up to and piggybacked on my trail, they'd get just about nothing. Of course, then I would _destroy_ them, but not before I told them to find their own billionaire's cyber-sandbox to play in."

Oliver finally raised his eyes to look at her fondly. She grinned at him. "I did help myself to one of your satellites, though," she added. "In my defense, I was trying to save Lois."

He nodded. "I know," he said. "That's how my guy caught you. For what it's worth, he says you're, and I quote, 'wickedly crafty'."

She tried to keep her grin from turning too smug, and failed. Then, she turned curious. "This guy of yours – "

"Nope," he interrupted, "you don't get to ask about my guy. Since he's apparently the only one who could stand between you and my demise if I ever got on your bad side, I'd rather he stayed _far_ away from your radar."

She rolled her eyes again. "Fine, your guy can stay as mysterious as you like," she yielded before turning serious once more. He seemed to have sensed the shift because his smile dimmed. "Did you really think I was using you, though?" she asked quietly.

He sighed and let his eyes drop to their hands again. "It…crossed my mind," he admitted. "I…I actually felt guilty afterwards, but for a moment there, I thought you might be." It was his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand now, and she recognized it for the gesture of apology that it was. "There haven't been very many people that I could trust in my life, Chloe…and I realized that I did trust _you_. Which is why I didn't understand…and kind of why I avoided you for a week." He seemed struck by a different thought then and met her eyes again, curious. "But why did _you_ avoid _me_ for a week?" he asked.

Chloe implemented her best poker-face. "I figured you were avoiding me," she said, shrugging a little. "Didn't really know why, but I thought I'd just let you be…you know, in case it was one of your rich-boy tantrums."

"I don't throw rich-boy tantrums," he protested indignantly.

_There's no bigger tantrum than running around in green leather and shooting pointy sticks at people, if you ask me_, she thought. "Whatever you say, Ollie."

He cocked his head to the side. "You know, for an unscrupulous hacker, you're surprisingly unrepentant," he remarked.

She knew exactly what he was fishing for. "Fine. How do I make it up to you?"

"Well, now that you ask," he began, "I have a reunion coming up. You can make it up to me by coming along and making that hell more bearable."

"I do remember you telling Lex about it," she said and was pleased to see him cringe slightly at the memory of his behavior at the Dark Thursday benefit. "And sure," she agreed. "A little trust fund brats' get-together…what's the worst that can happen?"

* * *

Chloe learned that death by falling swords and exploding cars were the worst things that could happen at a little trust fund brats' get-together.

The reunion itself was one of the most awkward events she had ever had the misfortune of attending. Lex was there, with Lana, and somehow ended up caught in a very tense exchange with Oliver and his two old classmates, Alden and Geoffrey, while Chloe stood by and cringed internally. Lana seemed clueless as to the source of the tension but Chloe knew it was Oliver and his pals' history of bullying Lex. She hadn't felt sorry for the younger Luthor in a long time but for a moment there, she pitied him. At least Oliver had cut off some of the more provoking jabs thrown Lex's way – Alden's jabs, mostly.

And then, Alden had a falling sword slicing through his chest. That had put an end to the reunion in two seconds flat.

Chloe went with Oliver and Geoffrey to the city morgue, keeping quiet as the two men stared at their dead friend – if they could even call him that – spread out on the mortician's table. She learned, from observing in silence, that Oliver's face could become oddly shuttered and hard. She was sure she caught glimpses of the vigilante side of him in those few moments.

The three of them had walked out and Geoffrey had gotten into his car, meaning to make his way back to Gotham. Only, said car exploded just as Chloe and Oliver went out of range.

Even now, hours later, her side still hurt from having hit the ground. She was back in the Talon, as Oliver had, rather curtly, told her to go home. She'd wanted to stay with him but had given up when he came close to yelling. She figured it was best to just leave him be for the night.

She hadn't bothered with much else other than kicking off her shoes before flopping down on the couch when she returned to the Talon. She was worried. The deaths of two close Excelsior alumni in just a span of a few hours could not be a coincidence. She knew what Oliver was thinking, of course; that Lex was somehow to blame. It was always Lex. She, for her part, had her reservations about that.

_Add worrying about a billionaire-turned-vigilante to my list of reasons to lose sleep over_, she thought irritably as she let her head loll against the back of the couch. One would think the universe would take pity on her and just let her worry about Clark's latest alien emergency for once. The current emergency being all the Phantom Zone escapees – that Chloe liked to call Zoners – she and Clark were having trouble tracking. Of course, a quick perusal of the QI satellite images would solve a great part of the problem; Oliver's satellites had been the only operational ones on Dark Thursday. In light of their recent conversation, she knew better than to try and hack the satellites. She supposed she would just have to ask him for the access codes, once she figured out why someone was playing assassin on his old classmates and staging the murders as freak accidents. She was absolutely certain that accidents, they were not; she had lived too long in Smallville for that.

"You're usually chirpier than this after some quality time with the billionaire boy-wonder," she heard Lois observe. Smiling faintly as she glanced to the side, she saw her cousin, already dressed for bed, approach the couch. "Date gone wrong?"

Chloe chuckled. "Wrong is one way to put it."

Lois sat next to her and Chloe gave her a brief account of the day's events, her tired brain taking longer than necessary to alert her to her mistake. She realized she should have just kept her mouth shut when a glint of curiosity lit up her cousin's eyes. She'd just given her material for another Oliver-related story and she still hadn't even figured out how to keep her away from the Green Arrow business. _Great_, she thought. _Just great_.

* * *

The next morning, she was at the Clocktower, waiting for Oliver to buzz her in. She made it clear she would not budge until he let her up, just in case he got ideas along the lines of ignoring her.

She found him sitting at his desk when she stepped into the penthouse. Surprisingly or not, he looked a lot more relaxed than the previous night. He rose to his feet when she appeared in his line of sight, giving her a small smile.

"Sorry for the brush-off yesterday," he offered an apology.

"That's okay," she said. "Billionaires need their me-time."

He acknowledged her quip with a wider smile before turning serious. "Still, I should have at least had someone take you home."

"Oliver, I have been getting around this city on my own for a while now," she pointed out. "I don't need to be chauffeured around. Besides, I don't think anyone can blame you for forgetting your manners last night." She took a few steps closer. "You okay?"

His smile was so obviously forced. "I've seen better days, but…yeah, I'm good."

She knew it was probably in her best interest to just let it go but she had never been one for reasonable courses of action. "Because you've spent the night coming up with all the ways in which Lex could have caused your friends' deaths?" she ventured and knew she'd hit her mark when his eyes widened, just before his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"He did it, Chloe," he said quietly after a moment. "I don't know how he managed it, but he's behind it."

She nodded then sighed. "At the risk of us butting our blonde heads," she began, "are you sure you're thinking clearly here? You and Lex, you've got a messy history, and I know that, but maybe – "

"He hated us, Chloe," Oliver interjected. "He still does, you saw him at the reunion. Me and…Alden and Geoffrey. And they're dead now. What else am I supposed to think?"

"Okay, but…it takes planning to stage murders as accidents. That would mean he's wanted…_them_ dead for a while. Why now?"

Oliver shrugged. "Dramatic effect?"

"You billionaires do have a flare for the dramatic, I'll give you that," she muttered. "Still, it's better not to jump to conclusions." She bit her lip. "Also…"

When her words trailed off, Oliver frowned. "What?" He prodded gently, obviously sensing her inner freak-out. She let out a loud puff of air then threw her hands up. "Well, I'd just really hate for you to join the newly formed 'sudden death by voodoo' club! That would, like…really suck."

She was pretty sure the only reason he wasn't laughing was his consideration for her feelings. A small snort still escaped him, though. "Voodoo?"

"Oh, come on, Ollie…a falling sword and a conveniently _in_convenient cigarette butt?" she challenged. "That's…well, okay, it's kind of everyday stuff around here."

She deflated after that, running a weary hand over her face. The next moment, she felt both his hands fall to her shoulders and squeeze. "You're worried about me," he said lightly, almost teasingly. "It's nice."

"Aren't you worried?"

"A bit," he allowed. "But I can handle myself, I'll be fine."

"No, you see, I don't think you understand the definition of a freak accident – "

"Chloe," he cut her off, not unkindly. "I'll be okay."

"You know what? Fine! But when you find yourself being strangled by one of your fancy silk ties in the middle of the night, don't say I didn't warn you."

"I'll use the last of my strength to let the world know you were right on a post-it," he deadpanned then rubbed her shoulders once more. "Now, maybe instead of predicting my death by tie strangulation, you could help me figure how Lex is doing it."

"It's not Lex."

"Oh, it's Lex."

"It's not Lex!"

"Let's just agree to disagree for now," Oliver proposed an alternative. When she nodded, he grinned. "So, Sullivan, where do we start?"

* * *

"I told you it wasn't Lex."

Twenty-four hours later, Chloe was proven right and drew absolutely no satisfaction from it for what was likely the first time.

She and Oliver had spent most of the day brainstorming, by means of texts and phone calls while she was at the Planet, but they didn't get very far. Chloe blamed it entirely on Oliver and his refusal to be forthcoming about his past at Excelsior. She knew he had been a bully, much like his now deceased friends, and that they had picked on Lex. Oliver had named another boy as their victim of choice; Duncan. That was it. Just Duncan. No last name, no nothing. Needless to say, it wasn't much to go on.

Then, in the evening, Lana was admitted to Smallville's Medical Center, having been thrown to the ground by Lex, who narrowly escaped death by collapsing chandelier in the Luthor mansion.

Lana had still not woken by morning, though the doctors assured she would recover, and Chloe found herself in the Clocktower once more, looking at a brooding Oliver. He'd postulated that Lex had staged the assassination attempt to throw off suspicion, to which Chloe had merely pointed out that, for all his occasional madness and violent tendencies, he would never put Lana in danger. Oliver had had to agree.

So now, he sat on his couch, shoulders slumped, and stared at his hands.

With a sigh, Chloe came to sit next to him. "So…any other ideas?"

"None," he muttered.

"Well, what about that other guy you mentioned? Duncan?"

Oliver shook his head. "It's not him."

"How can you be sure?"

His reaction surprised her. He wrung his hands, looked like he'd seen a ghost then rose to his feet abruptly. "Because he's dead," he eventually said, keeping his back to her. She sensed there was much more to the story.

"How'd he die?"

She watched as his shoulders tensed and his head bowed. "We killed him."

Chloe blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"We didn't push him with our own hands, but we might as well have."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on." Chloe rose to her own feet, taking a few cautious steps closer to him. "Tell me everything, from the beginning."

He cleared his throat but still didn't turn to her as he began speaking again. "Duncan Allenmeyer," he said. "He was Lex's only friend at Excelsior. He was there on a scholarship, he…he was an outcast, just as Lex was. I guess that's why they grew so close."

Although he couldn't see her, Chloe nodded. "Okay, so what happened to him?"

By the time he'd finished the entire story, from Duncan's beating by Lex's hand to the boy being run over by a speeding car, Chloe had a hand pressed above her heart, feeling an overwhelming sadness spread through her. She also finally understood what Oliver meant when he said he'd seen what Lex was capable of.

Cautiously, she stepped around to Oliver's front, unsurprised to see him stoic and looking just a bit lost; he had been the same at the morgue.

She rested her hand on his arm, rubbing it up and down soothingly. "Sometimes, we do things," she said, "things that seem fairly innocent, or just not all that threatening, and end up pilling into a mess that is anything but. I know you don't like the person you were then, and I know you probably wish you could go back and change what happened, but…once everything is said and done, there is no going back – well, actually, that's not always true but it is in this case. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, all you can really do is try and make amends or…hope the good you do will balance the karma-scale, tip it back in your favor." She smiled slightly. "And from what I've seen, that's exactly what you've been trying to do for a long time."

He seemed positively stunned by her words, his expression growing blank. She was starting to think she had offended him beyond repair when he smiled. "You know, you're the first person who didn't play this off as an accident," he told her. "Not that many people got to hear this, but those who did – those who were there, myself included, for a long time – always said it was an accident and that I shouldn't feel guilty. They kept telling me what they thought I wanted to her – I kept telling _myself_ what I thought I wanted to hear."

"Oh, I'm still telling you what you want to hear," Chloe said lightly. "I just know what you _really_ want to hear."

_Heroes_, she thought. They all needed their guilt and their angst to function. Luckily, she was somewhat of an expert on the matter.

Oliver raised his hand to grasp her own, where it rested against his arm. "Thank you," he said simply.

"It's just one of those things I do best," she brushed the gratitude off. "Now, as lovely as our little moment here is, we still have a killer to stop. You said Duncan died two days after he was run over, so maybe it's someone close to him?"

Shaking his head, Oliver let go of her hand. "He didn't have any friends, and the only family he did have was his mother…she died about a month ago."

Chloe thought that over. "Well, then there's something we're missing here. You also said it was Lionel who covered all the costs to make everything go away…maybe he knows something we don't."

"I'm not exactly high on Lionel's buddy-list," Oliver pointed out wryly. "If he does know something, I don't think he'd be happy to share."

"Not with you," Chloe agreed, "but as it happens, I do rank reasonably high on his buddy-list these days." When Oliver frowned in distaste, she added, "Believe me, I never thought I'd find myself saying that. Still, he may be a bit more inclined to share if I spoke to him…or I could just send Clark on this one, have _him_ run some errands for once."

"Do you really want to involve Clark?"

"Oh, trust me, he's already involved," she said. "Lana gets hurt and Clark gets…_invested_."

Oliver chuckled. "And the saga continues."

"Don't be a cynic," Chloe chastised half-heartedly, already reaching for her purse and fishing for her phone. "I need to go to the Planet," she said as she typed a quick text to Clark. "I'll let you know if anything comes up or if Clark learns something…and see you later?"

He nodded. "If I'm still in one piece," he joked just as the elevator began to descend. She glared at him until he went out of sight.

* * *

As it happened, by that evening, Clark had learned something. Duncan was alive, though said to be in a permanent vegetative state, and kept in a Metropolis mental research facility. Lionel had been quite forthcoming, admitting to funding a wide array of projects over the past ten years, meant to restore Duncan's brain as it once was. Both Chloe and Clark agreed that one of those treatments might have just worked.

Clark had gone to the facility to dig more information up while Chloe shut off her computers and headed for the Clocktower. She tried calling Oliver from her car and when he didn't pick up, disregarded every speed limit in the city.

She nearly ran up to the elevator, pressing on the buzzer with more force than necessary. When that garnered no response from the penthouse, she simply bypassed the security system by…_rearranging_ some wires. Oliver could demand an apology later.

As soon as she pushed the grates open, she froze. "Whoa!" she let out, taking in the sight of the shattered ceiling-high windows, Lex sprawled unconscious and bleeding on the floor and Oliver half-propped against one of his bookshelves, unconscious as well. Her eyes drifted to what she had previously only known as a clock face but was now sliding open to reveal a secret – and green, as it happened – room, filled with what she assumed was an archery-loving vigilante's dream arsenal. Said arsenal contained an arrow that rose from its box and floated mid-air, turning to where Oliver was slumped against the shelves.

"Whoa!" she yelled again, scrambling toward him and trying not to fall. The arrow whizzed across the space and Chloe only just managed to grab Oliver's arm and yank him out of the way before it hit him.

She fell backwards under the momentum and his weight, and he went with her. She didn't have much time to ponder on their current position as she raised herself on her elbows, watching the arrow in stunned silence. It had lodged itself between two books and, as soon as it had hit the back wall, an impulse went through the room.

_Electromagnetic pulse_, Chloe thought wildly as she felt and saw its waves spread. For a moment, a shape materialized in their midst; the shadow of a man stood against the ripples and Chloe knew she was staring at the last echo of Duncan Allenmeyer. Then, everything went quiet again.

Chloe stared for a few moments, knowing she had just seen whatever had been left of Duncan's conscious mind shatter and finally die. She shook her head to clear it then took a deep breath, letting her eyes drop to Oliver. He lay half over her, with one arm across her legs and his head practically in her lap.

"I'm so never ever telling you this happened," she muttered, grumbling as she extracted herself from under him. _Okay_, she thought as she rose to her feet and looked around. _Damage control_.

No one could know about Oliver's little green secret, and it would be better if Oliver didn't know she knew about his little green secret, so Chloe set to remove all traces that it had been exposed. She bent to retrieve the arrow, mumbling and cursing when it wouldn't budge and landing on her ass again as she finally managed to pull it free. She huffed and puffed in annoyance, mostly wobbling to the open clock face. Putting the arrow back in its place and closing the box's lid shut, she took a moment to look around. All the gadgets and quivers and bows were fancy, she had to admit.

Stepping back, she clucked her tongue as she tried to figure out how to close the thing back shut. First, she tried manual force, attempting to push the two sides back together. They barely slid one inch. She let out another annoyed breath. "Right," she mumbled, "there's got to be a button then…button…button…oh, button!" Her eyes caught a likely candidate inside the hidden lair, just off to the side. Fervently hoping she wouldn't trigger some sort of alarm by accident, she pressed down on it and hopped backwards just in time to see the clock face close neatly shut again.

She fist-pumped meekly.

Arranging the disturbed books again as to make it appear no weirdly-powered arrow had nicked them, she went back to Oliver, kneeling carefully by his side. She was just about to try and slap him into wakefulness when a whoosh of air blew her hair.

She silently thanked the heavens for her timely removal of compromising evidence before craning her head to the side and giving a very confused Clark a weak smile. "I'm afraid you're a little late to the party, Clark."

"What happened?" he asked, looking around, and went on before Chloe could reply. "Duncan's behind the murders, like we thought. They've been giving him a new treatment for the past couple of days, derived from refined meteor rock. It makes him able to…I can't believe I'm saying this, but astral project."

"_Made_ him able to astral project," Chloe corrected quietly, her eyes going to the corner of the room where she had seen him. "He was right there, Clark, but then…I don't know what happened, but he was gone the next moment and everything stopped. I think he's dead now."

Clark blinked then turned sad. "He must have…overloaded, I suppose. His brain couldn't handle all of the electrical storm anymore."

"Yeah, that must've been it," she agreed even though she knew it was a lie.

"I should head back to the facility," Clark spoke after a moment. "See what Lois is doing."

"Lois?"

"Yeah, she was there too, chasing down leads. Apparently, this is her new story…"

Chloe could only groan.

* * *

Half an hour later, Lex was being wheeled out on a gurney while an EMT tried and failed to convince Oliver to have his injuries looked at as well.

"I'm fine," he told the paramedic for the tenth time. The other man seemed far from placated. "Mr. Queen," he said, "cuts and bruises aside, you were knocked out. As a precaution, you should – "

"Look," Oliver interrupted, glancing over the man's nametag, "Mr. Bloome, I appreciate your diligence but I am perfectly fine."

The dark-haired paramedic seemed exasperated. Chloe took pity on him. "I'll stay with him," she assured, "and if it turns out he does have a massive concussion, cranial hemorrhage or irreparable brain damage, you get to say 'I told you so'."

While Oliver sent a scowl her way, Bloome chuckled. "All right," he capitulated. "I hope you are as fine as you say you are, Mr. Queen. Goodnight."

Once they were left alone, Oliver turned to Chloe. "You don't actually _have_ to stay, you know," he told her. "I'm fine. Promise."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm not staying here for your benefit," she said. "Lois may have – and it was totally not my fault – sniffed out this story, which subsequently made her _latch on to _this story, and she's now running around, trying to get details and quotes and maybe a little bit of dirt." She sighed deeply. "I am hiding here indefinitely."

Oliver only cracked the barest of smiles. "Great, then you'll get see me use the most expensive scotch money can buy in lieu of painkillers. Should be a fun night." And with that, he strode up to his liquor cabinet, pulled out a bottle of what Chloe assumed to be scotch only billionaires could afford and went to sit on the floor in front of the blown-off windows. He unscrewed the cap and unceremoniously took a very long sip.

With a sigh, she kicked some residual glass shards out of the way and made herself comfortable next to him on the ground, tucking her legs under her body. The sounds of the city below were much louder than they ought to be, what with there being no barrier to tamper them anymore, and Oliver just looked on the flickering lights without saying a word.

"Sorry for maiming your security system," Chloe said after some moments of silence. Oliver took another swig of scotch then smiled.

"You're forgiven this time."

"Yeah, can't blame a girl for getting antsy."

He agreed with a low chuckle then turned his eyes to her. "I just can't believe he's been alive all these years," he admitted quietly, "and that he's really gone now."

Chloe made to offer what little reassurance she could but his look made her quiet instead. He seemed contemplative, letting his eyes go over every inch of her face. Her head tipped to the side, as she let out a soft, "What?"

"I…can't really believe you're here, either," he said at length. "I mean, when I met you at Lex's wedding, I never thought I'd even see you again, much less that we'd end up here."

"What, you didn't think we'd be sitting on the floor of your semi-demolished penthouse after one of your old classmates tried to telepathically snap your neck?" she quipped. "How could you possibly have not foreseen _that_?"

If nothing else, she managed to get a sincere chuckle out of him. He shifted closer after a moment, his shoulder bumping hers, and she felt his arm brush the length of her own as he raised his hand and caught one of her curls around his finger. "Your hair's a mess," he commented.

"And I guess that answers my question of whether women sleep with you for your charm or your money," she deadpanned, to which he merely grinned.

She shook her head slightly before biting her lip. "So, what's the verdict?" she asked softly. "Was bumping into yours truly at that shindig a good or a bad thing?"

He considered that for a moment. "It was good to meet you," he said then chuckled. "It was _really_ good to meet you."

She presented him with her widest smile and he returned it, before busying himself with her hair again; he kept twirling the small lock he had trapped around his finger, letting his eyes go over every askew strand and his smile became more secretive when they skimmed over her green hairpin.

Of course, she knew exactly what the secret was.

She almost giggled; here she was, sitting on a glass-littered floor while the elusive and notorious Green Arrow played with her hair. Her thoughts shifted to the night she had met him on the roof and the way he had looked then, cloaked in leather and shadows.

She had always known he had the heart of a hero, from the moment she had found him waiting for her in the Talon seeking help for a meteor-infected boy; from the moment he had offered to protect her, a girl he barely knew. So, it wasn't all that surprising to find him hopping between rooftops with a bow and arrow, odd green and leathery fashion statements aside. She had also always known there was so much more to him than his playboy façade and she realized just how much of a strategy it actually was, that night on the Planet's roof.

Her eyes came to rest on the only part of his face she could vaguely discern then, the sharp line of his jaw, and her hand rose of its own accord to touch his face. His one-day stubble prickled her fingertips as she ran them down his jaw, from his ear to his chin, her eyes tracking their progression. The pad of her thumb settled into the little crease of his chin and she smiled to herself as she stroked the spot lightly, thinking that everyone should be able to recognize him by that dimple alone.

She only really realized what she was doing when she became aware of his breaths against the back of her hand, as they passed his slightly parted lips. Her eyes snapped up to meet his and she froze.

Well, this was rather awkward – not that anything could possibly top the time she had found him naked in the middle of his hotel suite in the awkward department, and she should so _not_ be reminiscing that incident in the current situation.

She gulped.

Holding herself completely still, she debated on the best course of action. If she pulled and scurried away, she would make things even more awkward, though they were becoming just that the longer she kept frozen in her current position.

Thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation. He didn't seem nearly as panicked as she felt; in fact, he just bit the inside of his cheek for a moment, gave her a look she couldn't quite place, and let his hand drop to her shoulder as he pulled her in so that her head rested on his shoulder. The motion made her hand fall away from his face and she breathed a small sigh of relief – one she really hoped he didn't notice.

His fingers traced light, mindless patterns against her shoulder and she was reminded of the last time she had used him as her own personal pillow. He was surprisingly comfortable for someone made almost entirely of muscle, and very warm, too. Really, he was just about the best human pillow out there, if Chloe said so herself. She couldn't help but burrow just a little closer into him, her previous awkwardness forgotten.

She didn't know or if he would share his secret with her or how complicated it would become to keep it; between the masses thinking of his alter-ego as the new villain of the week and Lois leading the lynch mob, things could get just a bit tricky. Still, she would do her best. He was a hero, after all, and Chloe Sullivan always protected her heroes.

* * *

_A/N: I'm sure you noticed the little Davis cameo in there. Worry not, weird love triangles and/or Doomsday are not parts of this series. The Davis mention serves the same purpose as the Tess one in the sixth installment did, which is to give a nod to the characters (as they are part of the universe) since the rewrites will not go past season seven, and both Tess and Davis only make their grand debuts in season eight. _

_Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed this installment and that the (rather absurd) length of it didn't bore you to tears :)_


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